


Beauty and the Beast

by Bostoniangirl



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Character Development, F/M, Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, One-Sided Attraction, Opposites Attract, Slow Build, some french
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:14:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27679253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bostoniangirl/pseuds/Bostoniangirl
Summary: Finally Anneberry is old enough to make her dream come true: study at the College of Winterhold. She leaves her life in Daggerfall to fulfill her calling, not foreseeing her life in Skyrim would be much more than studying and magic. Some situations, make her ecstatic and excited: like the Nordic history and helping people with her magic. Others, like being the ultimate legendary dragonslayer, makes her doubt of her skills and capabilities. Thankfully, she won't be alone in the transition of her new life, because she can count on her classmates from the College and the famous Companions she much researched about.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Vilkas
Comments: 26
Kudos: 22





	1. First Days

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first project based on my own gameplay and my favorite and most difficult OC: Anneberry the mage. I hope you enjoy! From time to time my character will speak or name things in French, representing the Bretonic language in High Rock, but I will keep it simple.

"Au revoir papa, mama!" Anne waved as her carriage moved away from the stables. A few meters away, her parents waved back to her and her mother holded a wet handkerchief with her tears. 

"Good bye sweetie! We're proud of you!" Her mother, Marie, yelled while her husband hugged her waist."We love you!"

Anne blowed kisses to the air, a warm feeling filling her chest. It was the most exciting moment in her life, a moment awaited since she was a child! She sat on the carriage and looked the roads guiding her outside the kingdom of Daggerfall. It was a journey of about a week so she could finally enter Skyrim and another three days to get to her goal: The College of Winterhold. 

"Get comfortable, lady. We have a lot of hours before we get to Wayrest and then you can rest and climb to another carriage." The carriage driver said.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Her ears were ringing, and her vision blurry. She managed to recognize the sky, being teared apart? And a giant fireball towards her? A shadow with a shape of a dragon circling the skies?

"Anneberry!" A man screamed, to later hear his screams of agony and her body being pushed towards a bush. 

She didn't know for how long she was unconscious, but when she opened her eyes and tried to get up, she witnessed her caravan being burned down, and the reek of burnt flesh from the carriage driver laying meters from her pierced her nose. She gagged. 

"No..." The young mage whispered. "What just happened?"

She began to circle the caravan, everything was burned down to crisp. The boxes, supplies, the horses lied on the grass, with a panicked gaze on their lifeless eyes, sign of a harsh and scary death. She recalled, this was the caravan from Hammerfell. They didn't have any carriages traveling through the border but only that small caravan with the kind driver and the mercenary, Astius.

"Astius!" She called but no one answered. She began to fear his fate was the same as the driver. She screamed his name again between sobs. "Astius!"

She ran to the bushes, where she woke up for the first time, and she managed to recognize his body; or what was left of him. Anne could not handle it anymore and throwed up. 

'What I am going to do? I am alone and lost in the middle of nowhere.' She thought. She looked up to the sky, locating the sun and managed to calculate the time. 'It has to be afternoon but I have a couple of hours before sunset. I have to go and find someone to help me.'

The young mage wandered in the woods, not daring to look back to the caravan, trying to find something that implied civilization or hunters, or human settlements! Without luck, she ended finding another mage, who unlike her kind chofer and Astius, had other intentions with the young lady. The battle was quick and short. It was the first time she had to kill a person using her magic. She always thought she would save lives, not take them. Even though she killed the necromancer for her self-defense, she felt like a murderer; all she did was to ran away from the convulsing corpse, like she was about to get caught doing a crime. 

"I should find a route and fast. Maybe I can find someone to point me to a city." She rambled. 

It hasn't passed like a moment and she found a vixen, crying on top of a dead man, it seemed like he was attacked by wolves. Her heart melted, appreciating the creature's loyalty. 

"You having a bad day too, huh?" She whispered to the vixen, careful to not scare her away. "Come here little one, I'm not going to hurt you."

The small vixen screeched and wagged her tail, snarling at her. "No, no! It's okay." Anne whispered, lending a hand to the animal. "See? I'm not going to hurt you."

The creature got closer to Anne's hand, slowly, carefully, and sniffed her hand, to later lick it. Anneberry smiled. "You must be hungry, let me check if I have something here." 

The vixen barked and pointed her snout to the man's pouch, half open. When she opened it, she found a fresh sweetroll. The vixen didn't waited for Anne to lend it to her and snapped her mouth on the treat. 

"Careful!" Anne snapped, surprised on the vixen's sudden action. "Sweet Roll."

The vixen feasted on the treat, wagging her fluffy tail happily. Once she finished, she ran towards Anne and licked her cheek. 

"I guess I'm not going to be alone anymore." Sweet Roll barked, and ran through the woods non-stop. "Sweet Roll! Wait for me!" The mage ran behind the fox to later find a road with some soldiers and a man wearing a majestic fur cloak, apparently they were patroling the area. The fox dashed towards the man in fur cloak and yelped at him, earning a curious look on his part.

'Thank gods for sending me a smart fox.' Anne thought as she fixed her robes and hair walking towards them.

"Good afternoon gentlemen and monsieur." Anne spoke, some of the soldiers whistled at her but the stoic man shut them up with a gesture of his hand. "My caravan got attacked and I am lost, could you please point me a direction towards the nearest city?"

"Perhaps. Who are you?" The man asked cautiously. He didn't seemed to trust her at all. 

"My name is Anneberry, of Daggerfall. Please, I don't mean to be any trouble. I-" Her nervous rambling was interrupted by an arrow buzzing by her side and reaching to a soldier's eye, piercing his brain and killing instantly. Anne screamed in horror as many arrows rained on their direction and yells from other soldiers came from the woods and rocks. 

"Submit your weapons!" The man in fur yelled and his soldiers put their weapons to the ground and raised their hands in defeat. Anne looked at him and she was certain that she was in the worst place, at the worst moment. She raised her hands as well and lowered herself in her knees, and saw Imperial soldiers running towards them, and arresting the remaining soldiers. 

"And this one Tullius?" A soldier asked behind her, as an Imperial with different armor in a white horse galloped towards her. He looked at her with a dead eye.

No, she wasn't a soldier. Whatever was happening on this land, maybe Cyrodiil or Skyrim; she wasn't involved. By Mara, she never killed anyone in her life!

"Please sir, I'm not with them. Have pity!" She begged, tears building in her eyes. 

"Silence her." He barked as he clicked his tongue to his horse. "Put them all in the carriage and tie Ulfric up. We have a long travel ahead."

Anne screamed, tried to get away from the situation, Sweet Roll barked and attempted to bite the soldier who handed Anne, but she was shoved away. 

The last thing she remembered, was seeing her new pet scared and looking towards the man behind her in submission; until her head was kicked, her ears rang and everything went black once more. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Anne groaned in pain, she felt like her head was crushed like a walnut. She attempted to open her eyes, but her vision was blurry. It took her a few blinks to see a blonde man, one of the soldiers in blue cloak, smiling apologetic at her. 

"...you're finally awake." He said. She didn't respond. "You aren't one of us, or them, just like that thief besides me."

Her eyebrow quirked. Thief? When did the thief got himself into this mess? Apparently he was just as scared as her, and began talking with the blonde soldier. She looked at her surroundings, until she found a pair of blue eyes looking at her. She backed off, realizing her head was resting on his shoulder. 

"He's Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!" The blonde soldier mentioned. 

"High King? Where am I?" Anne whispered. 

"This is Skyrim. But I'm not sure where are they taking us."

"Shut up back there!" An Imperial soldier yelled. His yell made the young lady groan. They hitted her head harder than she thought. 

Their slow and unfortunate travel seemed to end in Helgen, as Ralof informed before adding that he was sweet on a girl from there. Now speaking of sweet, she remembered her small friend who was nowhere to be seen. 

Alone once more, before realizing she was just minutes away to go to the Divines. She couldn't reach the College, Sweet Roll probably was killed or lost and her parents were going to lose their only daughter. Great, her first days in Skyrim had been the worst on her life, but little was the young mage unaware of how many adventures and dangerous her life was up to be.


	2. New Opportunities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Anne gets a second chance to start her new life.

Ralof walked grudgingly, trying to stay away from the Imperial soldier next to the lady, more because he wanted to break Hadvar's nose and the poor girl had seen too much violence for a day. Hadvar wasn't happy either; he had to send an innocent girl to the block and for now he decided to not strangle his once childhood friend as the Empire trained him to do so. Hadvar sighed and looked at the young lady besides him. Annebelly? Anne Berries? Anne Mary? Her name reminded him of snowberries, just like the blush that blossomed on her cheeks when she woke up in the cart and realized she rested on Ulfric's shoulder. 

Yes, he was the soldier that guarded the back of the prisoner cart. The girl was unconscious for three whole days and from time to time he managed to check on her if she was unconscious or dead and gave her spoons of honey and water to keep her alive. Henrir got too far by almost killing the young lady. 

He had to admit, the Breton lady was a sight. She looked in her early twenties. She had dark and long hair brushed in a braided crown, as the rest of her hair danced at mid back. Her skin was like the softest ivory and her cheeks and lips were once kissed by snowberries, as now they were pale. She wasn't muscular like the Nord women he often met, but her figure was more curvy and sleek, framing her as a delicate damsel from the highest courts. 

In better circumstances, he would have commented and joked on how similar her name was to snowberries, maybe even flirt with her. But now, they were just walking and trying to stay away from any other living person or creature. 

"Say, little lady, what was your name again?" Hadvar started. 

The Breton lady jerked her head, apparently she was lost in thought and barely even chirped all day long. Her brown eyes looked tired, and she got dried blood on one side of her head from the nasty blow she recieved from one of his comrades. Her hair was messy and tangled as her whole body was covered in ash and dirt. "What was that?"

"Your name, what is your name?" He repeated as they walked. Ralof looked at them angrily. "Just making conversation." He said, raising his arms. 

"You should have known it, she said her name when you and your crew were about to execute her." The blonde remarked. 

"I was just following orders, you know that." He tried to defend himself but earned a roll of eyes from Ralof. "Lady, I'm really sorry for what happened. I know you weren't part of this at all but-"

"Oh! Now you say sorry for almost chopping her head off!" Ralof growled. Anne on the other part, lowered her head and stiffened her shoulders. "Look at her! She is scared!"

Right, scared was a very small description of what she felt. To her surprise, the fact that she almost lose her life by the hand of the Imperial headsman was nothing that made her adrenaline fly to the skies. 

It was that beast. She swore it had looked straight to her eyes, a wild and untamed gaze. It was a moment that lasted like an eternity, and then triggered chaos with a rain of fire and blasting rocks. Almost exactly like the caravan she was riding on. 

Anne shook her head, it didn't mattered anymore. She was alive, and with two men who seemed to be in a dispute over what she felt, and her name. They seemed to have forgotten she could speak. 

"My name is Anneberry, but you may call me Anne." She said, and both men stopped their discussion. "And monsieur Hadvar, I forgive you." She smiled tiredly and walked past both soldiers, equally astonished of her calmness irradiated in her voice. How was that girl so calm after such a day?

Hadvar looked at Ralof like he wanted to confirm he heard right. After all, not everyday an outsider forgives the soldier that sent them to the block. 

"You forgive Hadvar? After all you went through?" Ralof asked.

"I do. You didn't know me, and monsieur Hadvar was only following orders. But I would appreciate if you both put your differences aside and we can try and work as a team; my head hurts still a bit." she added, sheepishly. 

For the first time in his day, Hadvar smiled. Such a waste for the world for a kind woman like her. He was content that she didn't got killed. "You're right. It's getting dark, Ralof, we should get soon to Riverwood."

"Riverwood?"

"We grew up together in Riverwood, just a few miles from here, we should be there by night and we can rest there." Ralof mentioned. "And you can get healed there as well."

Now those were the words she longed to hear. 

As predicted, they arrived to Riverwood by early night and without any trouble. Hadvar went to his uncle's house and Ralof guided Anne to his sister's mill, where a blonde woman like him was chopping wood. 

They talked, she seemed uneasy when she saw her brother and Anne injured and dirty and called her husband for aid. By the time her husband got to them, Anne felt another sharp pain on the side of her head and her vision started to blur. 

Her fingers lightened with a weak healing spell, hoping her magic would make her pain wash away, but without food for a long time, her body wasn't able to cast properly her spell, even less heal her wounds.

"Woah! Look Gerdur! She's a mage." Her husband said, backing off. Ralof turned his head, confused and looked at her. She didn't know what he saw, because his face turned into one of fear and catched the young mage as she faded away once more.

~•~•~•~•~•

"Get her to the bed now!" A woman yelled as Anne's body fell on Ralof's arms and he carried her like the merciful doll she looked like. Anneberry had fainted over his arms, her nose leaking with blood and eyes going blind. Her breathing was unsteady. They arrived to his sister's house and she scattered all the furs and pillows on the matrimonial bed and laid the small mage carefully. Her eyes were half open, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. But instead, he tried to check on the potions they found on Helgen's storeroom and found his last healing potion. 

"Please get me clean water and rags, she's too weak to heal herself." Ralof said to his sister, who urged all things that he needed to heal her as best as he could. He hoped his basic training in healing would suffice to keep his friend alive over the night. The nearest healer was in Whiterun, and there was no way they could make it without falling of exhaustion. Also, she has not eaten anything in days, without counting the times he saw Hadvar discreetly wiping her mouth with honey and water to keep her alive. 

"Do you think she will make it through the night? She looks too young to be alone in the wild." Gerdur said, as she poured a bit of the healing potion in her rag and touched gently the bruise on her head. It started to make effect almost instantly, but not as effective as they hoped. The potion only burbled against her skin and the lady grumbled softly. 

"I believe she said she was from Daggerfall, and her caravan was attacked. She was with a fox just before we got attacked and Ulfric made us to stop attacking, maybe he didn't wanted us to die for nothing. I thought that she was an Imperial spy, until that damned Imperial almost blew her head off." He explained later, as he felt his blood boiling. 

Gerdur looked at the young woman and prayed to the gods to let her stay alive. Her life was too short and would be too soon to depart to Sovengarde. She looked at her brother, who seemed worried as he worked on her other wounds. 

"She's young, but strong brother." She reassured him, squeezing his hand. "She will wake up in the morning."

Ralof didn't trusted her word. It was hard to believe they just survived a dragon attack, as so it was the idea of seeing Anneberry awake and tingling her fingers with magic. But, only Arkay would decide her fate tonight. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Anne groaned and stirred in her sleep. Gods, how... how good she felt! She smiled lazily as she turned her head aside and opened her eyes. 

Since when Ralof had a black nose?

The Ralof barked and licked her face, waking her up instantly. It whimpered and Anne tried to get it off her lap without success.

"Stump! Leave the poor girl alone!" A woman scowled and pulled the licking stump from her face. Ah, it was a dog. "And it seems you are alive." The woman added, sitting besides Anne. 

"It seems so." She said, wiping the saliva off her cheeks. "How long I passed out?"

"One day. But my dear, you must be hungry!" The blonde woman added, as she jumped on her feet and waltzed to the fireplace, stirring a big spoon from a cauldron. The smell of soup flowed through her nostrils and her stomach growled loudly. Anneberry felt her cheeks hot and the woman chuckled as she handled her a bowl with soup and a piece of bread. 

"Enjoy, if you need water or mead, help yourself. Any friends of Ralof, is a friend of mine." She mentions kindly. 

Anne didn't expressed gratitude, as she would normally do, but that soup was made from the Divines! She had forgotten her table manners for a moment and devoured her supper along with the piece of bread and a cup of water. Now she felt better, but the woman still walked around the house, waiting for her. "Excuse me and my manners, but the food was exquisite." She chirped. 

"I'm glad you liked it, my name is Gerdur. Ralof said your name was Anneberry, right?"

"Yes, but you may call me Anne." She adds. "Where is mister Ralof?"

"Outside in the mill, but you may wish to take a bath before getting out, I can give you my clothes."

Anne's eyes widened. No, she couldn't take other people's clothes, no mattered how much she needed them. "It's not necessary..."

"I insist." Gerdur remarked stubbornly. "Consider it a gift."

"I can't take that as a gift, missus Gerdur. You have done so much for me, a stranger. I don't know how to pay you back."

Gerdur sighed and thought for a moment. If Ralof and Hadvar were right and a dragon just attacked, she will need guards to protect her mill. But her mill kept her occupied and Hadvar or Ralof wouldn't be listened by the Jarl as he claimed to be neutral. She got an idea. "My mill is going to need guards and protection if there's a dragon menace. If you speak to the Jarl of Whiterun, then I will be in your debt."

Anne's lips turned, it sounded better than just taking Gerdur's belongings, regardless the woman willingly gave it to her. "I believe that is a kingdom, am I right?"

"More like a city, but yeah, a kingdom. You may get some work and fresh supplies. 

Anne nodded, thanking her. Gerdur took a spare dress with boots along with a scarf. She guided the mage towards a bath room and left her alone to get some fresh water as she undressed. Anne looked at the mirror and gasped in shock. 

What a monstrous creature she was! She had a rag wrapped on her forehead, dampened with blood on one side. Her eyes had underbags and her skin pale and dry. She didn't even wanted to sniff herself. 

Gerdur returned soon to the room and filled the bath with water and gave her small bottles of aromatics and shampoo. She combed her hair with her hands as best as she could and dipped herself in the bath. Now that was better. She stared at the water as the grime and dried blood dissolved and took a soapy rag and started to clean her body. She felt her magic running warmer in her vains and closed her eyes, preparing her mind to cast the spell. 

'Imagine your body in smaller pieces, working in harmony to regenerate itself. All parts are different, but each one is equally important, as so they mend.' She remembered a verse from a healing spell she learned just before she departed from Daggerfall. 'Blood, flesh, breath and soul may work in harmony, but if one fails, everything fails, as they are meant to be together.' 

Her eyes opened and her fingers tingled with a golden light. She smiled, proud of her commitment and started to concentrate her spell on her head. It was a warm feeling, soothing, as the nature of the spell was nothing but an innocent feel made to save lives. Soon enough, her head was patched as so her underbags had faded from her eyes. She resumed her healing at the rest of her body, where smaller cuts and bruises decorated her petite body. 

"Now that's better. I should get out and find mister Ralof, and monsieur Hadvar." She mumbled as she dried herself with a clean towel and proceeded to dry and braid her hair. Anne dressed up and walked towards the door. As she turned the doorknob, fresh air and sunlight kissed her face, for a brief moment, because she heard a familiar yelp. 

"Sweet Roll!" She exclaimed, raising her furry companion in her arms. "Oh, I never thought I would see you again!"

"That is your fox?" A man asked, Gerdur's husband, she recalled. She nodded, as the vixen wagged her fluffy tail excited. "Because it has been waiting on the yard since this morning."

"You were?" She asked to the vixen, as she expected the creature would talk to her. Instead, she received a small lick on her nose and laid it's head on the curve of her neck. "What an intelligent fox you are!"

"And she had on her mouth some kind of dragon claw. Is that yours?" He handed Anneberry a golden ornament, kind of heavy, it surprised her Sweet Roll was capable to carry such weight to her. 

"Dragon claw? I have no idea of what are you talking about." She said, before both heard angry yells and feet stomping at their direction. Sweet Roll hoped off her mistress chest and hid behind her, her neck hairs raising and snarling at the incoming threat. 

"You! Thief!" The furious man exclaimed with a Cyrodiilic accent, much to Anne's surprise. "That damned fox is going to end up in my fur pelt sales if I catch her again stealing my stuff!"

"I guess we now know the rightful owner." Gerdur's husband whispered, and Anneberry handed the Imperial man his golden dragon claw. He took it rudely, as he stared at the snarling creature with hate. 

"And you! Are you the owner of that thing?" He asked, directly to Anneberry. 

"Yes, I am." 

"Then I advice you to keep yourself and your fur ball out of my shop! The next time I see you both around, she is going to pay for it." He snarled, pointing at Sweet Roll. The fox barked and warned him for an incoming attack if he dared to touch her mistress. 

Much to the Imperial surprise, Anneberry smiled and apologized for the inconvenience. "I understand how you feel sire and may I add, you have a remarkable ornament! It's mere luck that my vixen stole it and not a real thief, don't you think?" She replied. 

The Imperial calmed down, almost magically. "Erm, yes! I think so too. I- I'm sorry for screaming at you, my name is Lucan, Lucan Valerius."

Gerdur's husband was dumbfounded in how the conversation turned out, did she casted a spell on Lucan? He didn't even saw her casting anything or tingling her fingers. One thing was obvious, the lady sure knew how to deal with hot-headed people and seemed calm after what Ralof told him of their escape from Helgen and the dragon. "Lass, Ralof and Hadvar are in the mill if you wanted to thank them."

Lucan and Anne stared at them and she almost dashed with her vixen following her. "I completely forgot! Thanks sire and Lucan! A pleasure meeting you both!" She yelled as she dodged some chickens in the middle of the road. 

"That girl is really strange, I'm sure she casted a spell on you." Hod said to Lucan, who was waving at the running mage. "I never met someone so calm before."

"She didn't casted anything on me, as far as I know. Maybe she's just good in calming people's shit." The Imperial brushed his worries off, walking back to his shop. 

A few streets ahead of the conversation, Anneberry was already talking to Ralof and thanking him for all he had done for her, as he directed the young Breton to the blacksmith's forge. "Hadvar mentioned his uncle could give you a weapon if you're going to depart soon. Gerdur mentioned she will need guards if that damned dragon swoops on us; so is best for you to be armed than just wandering around Skyrim without nothing."

Anne nodded. "I can still use my magic, but a dagger would help me to be safe in my trip to the College of Winterhold."

Ralof's eyes widened, so that's why she was in Skyrim. "That's on the other side of the country! Please, let's go on ahead and speak to Alvor while I get a map for you, and you may catch a carriage today."

Well, it was something she couldn't help but sight helplessly. She was shocked for such kindness from him and his family, yet, if she really wanted to go to the College, the map will help her reach her destination. She walked towards the blacksmith, who provided her an iron dagger, and offered her a small job by helping him to mend helmets for the future guards. 

By afternoon, Hadvar and Ralof said their last goodbyes to Anneberry and Sweet Roll, as they walked out of the village. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•

Perhaps Anne had traveled for about an hour, until she saw the kingdom of Whiterun. It was a big and prosperous kingdom, with many farms surrounding it. The air smelled like fresh mead, and she discovered a meadery just besides the road, and by far, a creature like nothing she saw before was swinging it's giant hammer towards some warriors. 

The creature seemed to be about five times her height, and had scars all over his body in patterns. She had only read about them in her books back home, as she studied the Skyrim's bestiary before moving. Giants were described as pacific creatures, unless they felt threatened or provoked, it was clear that the giant was overwhelmed by the warriors who worked in harmony to put it down. She opted to stay away, she wasn't going to be any help if she tried to poke the creature with her dagger. Nothing good would happen if that hammer smashes her straight to the stars. 

When he entered to the city, she was impressed on how simple and yet homely the kingdom looked like. Nothing compared to the imposing towers and castles Daggerfall was famous for. Gerdur was right, it was more of a city than a kingdom. Every house seemed to be just about a quarter of the size of her home. Sweet Roll wandered in front of her, and reached towards an elder woman's stall, and tried to reach a silver necklace she placed on display. 

"Sweet Roll!" The mage shouted. That vixen was definitely attracted by shiny things. She took her pet in her arms and the elder woman looked at her and smiled. "My apologies, madame. My fox is a bit curious and seems to like shiny things." 

"Then your fox seems to have a refined taste." The woman joked and the mage giggled. "My products are made from the best blacksmith in Skyrim, right in front of you."

Anneberry cocked her head. "Who is the best blacksmith in Skyrim?"

The woman's eyes widened. "You must be new around here asking such a question. My husband tends the Skyforge, just besides Jorrvaskr. It's the meadhall of the Companions. Ah! There's no finer smith in the nine holds!" She expressed, praising her husband and his work. 

Anne smiled and talked with Fralia Grey-Mane, feeling that she just made her first friend outside of Riverwood. Fralia directed her to the palace and left her alone at the entrance of the palace. Anne sighted, hoping the king would listen to her, as she wandered in the extraordinary palace. A Dark Elf raised her weapon against the lady, and Sweet Roll growled as the elf approached cautiously and scanned the mage head-to-toe. 

"Irileth, it's fine. She can speak to me." The king instructed his housecarl and she sheathed her sword. "Please, go on ahead." He said to Anne. 

Anne revered the king, bowing with respect. "Thanks, your highness. My name is Anneberry, I come from Riverwood, as the village calls for your aid against the dragon menace."

Balgruuf raised his head with interest, but his steward stepped in front. "And this dragon menace, it is true, had you seen it with your own eyes?"

The mage nodded, showing fear and worry in her eyes. "I was victim and witness of Helgen's attack; last I saw, it was heading this way."

Balgruuf's court got paralyzed, and exploded in worried whispers and frantic stares, as their king pinched his forehead. He exploded, settling everyone down and gave orders right away, not awaiting for deeper planing. He wasn't going to stand there and watch his kingdom being burned. "Good job, girl. You had come to me on your own initiative and we're not going to forget that. But I might need someone with your particular talents, perhaps, to help me and my court wizard with these dragons, and rumors of dragons."

Anne shook her head, denying the job offer. "My apologies, I do not wish to be involved with this after what I went through. I am no warrior, less have particular talents. I am merely looking for a place to stay over the night and a carriage to Winterhold."

The king nodded. "Then you may leave. Thank you, Anneberry."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•

Anne sat alone in her table as she ate her salmon with grilled leeks with a book on hand: Songs of the Return. The innkeeper said it was a good book, so she borrowed it while she ate dinner. 

Apparently this book mentions the Companions, who were once a conquering army led by Ysgramor. And the Jorrvaskr was one of the ship the Circle of Captains were on. The description of the ship matched with a funny building besides the palace. 

The habitants of Whiterun seemed to be happy and loud people, as some couples danced on the rhythm of the bard's music. Nord music and dancing seemed fun, yet the music was somewhat different of what she was used to. The songs told stories, some stories being exaggerated and fallacious, as others were the types to pull a sigh from her lungs. Precisely, the Companions stories were the ones that impressed her. 

Over the night, she opted for a glass of wine and listened to the folklore and music the people offered. Two men entered to the tavern, with glistening armor and proud semblance. Everyone in the inn, except of Anneberry, cheered in their direction. "Hail, hail Companions!" Some yelled. 

The men nodded, and sat on the empty table in front of Anneberry. They were treated like heroes, as some barmaids dashed to their direction with tankards full of mead, and made some suggestive moves with their hips.

Anne gawked in disbelief. 'So these are the Companions!' She thought. Discreetly, she watched them as they drank their mead and enjoyed the music. They were twins, that was much clear, handsome too. She couldn't deny it, as many of the barmaids seemed to share the same opinion. One of the twins had longer hair than the other, as it was tied up in a messy ponytail, with ebony locks falling over his cheeks and he wore black paint over his eyes. The other twin looked more groomed, his beard was shaved and his hair was shorter, and wore a remarkable black fur pelt around his shoulders with a wolf necklace around his neck. 

Nords often used furs as a symbol of position in society, marking them as people of the hightest class, or high-ranking warriors. To Anne, the latter was the most obvious answer. 

Probably she stared for a long time, because they noticed her curious eyes, and while one of the twins looked at her and smiled, the other didn't had a friendly face. He raised an eyebrow, as he was daring her to keep looking at them. 

Anne looked away instantly. 'By the Gods, why I am such a peep?!' To hide her increasing blush, she drank almost the whole glass in one sip, but regretted her action as she standed up from her seat. 

The little lady maybe had too much alcohol, because her world seemed to turn around her and by mistake, she stepped on Sweet Roll's tail and the vixen screamed in pain. "I am so sorreeyy!" She yelled to her fox, but her words slurred more than she intended to. 

The music stopped, and she felt people were staring at her. 'Great, now I am the amusement of the night!' She thought. She wanted to hide, vanish from their sight and beg to her fox for forgiveness. Maybe that later, when she could regain her dignity. 

"I believe you need some help." A voice sounded from behind her. Anne turned and saw the man with smeared paint and messy ponytail. "I never seen you around here, are you new?"

She felt her cheeks were about to explode or steam would erupt from her ears as she awkwardly smiled at him. "Erm, yes, I'm new."

His smile got broader, interested on the small lady. "Great! From where?"

"Daggerfall." She simply replied. Anneberry was too shocked and embarrassed of how much attention she drawed. 

"Well then Miss Daggerfall, where is your room so I can guide you?" He asked, taking her by her shoulders and Sweet Roll following them behind, wagging her tail in content. 

Anne told him where was her room and the Companion guided her to the front door. People seemed had gone back to their music and chatting, however some barmaids had looked to Anne with jealousy. "I- I really appreciate that."

"You are welcome. My name is Farkas." He presented himself. Anne offered him her hand, expecting for a handshake but instead, he took her hand and gently kissed it. His act made Anne smile kindly. 

"Anneberry." She whispers and removes her hand to open her door. "Well then Mister Farkas, have a good night." She says and closes the door. 

"Good night, Anneberry." Farkas says and takes his leave, back to his chair and his brother. "I'm back." He said to his brother, who was drinking and reading a book that presumably, Anneberry had left in her table. 

"I noticed." His brother's lips twisted arrogantly. "Looks like your new fan likes the Companions too."

"What are you talking about brother?" 

Vilkas rolled his eyes. Farkas was so dense sometimes. "You didn't bed her? It was obvious she was looking at you."

Farkas shook his head. "No, and I won't bed a drunk woman, Kodlak raised us better than that."

Vilkas opted to just raise his shoulders. "Suit yourself."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

By next morning, Anne waked up as soon as the rooster sang and dashed to the stables, gnawing at a green apple and tying up her scarf around her neck. She was glad that almost no one was out that early morning, maybe they would recognize the drunken girl. Her carriage to Winterhold was ready and about to depart soon. Winterhold was famous to be icy cold all times, and she prepared herself to be warm as best as she could. Also her trip probably would take just hours until she would finally reach the College. 

And she did, Anneberry of Daggerfall had arrived to the College of Winterhold, and got admitted to start her fresh new life in Skyrim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anneberry is quite a character, and every woman deserves a Farkas in her life! <3


	3. First Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Anneberry experiences her life as a mage student.

"So, as you may know; Wards are the basic spells for any mage should learn and practice. This wards are able to protect you from any incoming attacks, proyectiles, and even the climate. This spell however, takes a lot of concentration from the wielder, hence, making the spell tricky to master when you run low on magicka." An old but wise mage lectured. He paced around the classroom, some students followed him with their eyes while others wrote on their journals hurriedly. 

A Nords student, Onmund, raised his hand. "Profesor?"

The elder moved his head towards her. "Yes?"

"Is it possible to make wards to absorb magicka from your enemies?"

"Absolutely, that's a skill one learns when wielding wards, very useful and a life saver. Can anyone tell me from which Magic School Wards belong to?" He asked but there was a silence on the classroom, his students having a blank gaze on their eyes. "The School of Silence isn't practiced in the College." He joked, everyone laughted. A delicate hand raised, calling the professor's attention. "Anneberry, do you know the answer?" 

Anne standed up from her chair. "Yes, Professor Tolfdir. Wards are part of the Restoration School, which specializes in the art of healing, creation and protection of life."

"Good job Anne! Magnificent as always." Tolfdir smiled. With that lecture, the class ended and every student parted to their normal routines. Some were heading to their next class, as they ran through the gates, others calmly picked their things and left to wander or practice on their own. Anne grinned, proud of her advancements. She walked outside the Hall of the Elements and wandered back to her room. 

She had spent three months in the College, and she loved everything about it: the classes, her classmates, her small dorm, the professors, the loremaster, even her new robes were almost worthy of a book. From time to time, she recieved a letter from her parents letting her know how things were going at home or questions about Skyrim and the College, where she filled her pages with stories and drawings. 

Around the College, she could be her own person, learning about things she loved to do and inspired to use her knowledge for the greater good. At the moment, her specialty was the Restoration and Destruction schools, but she was adept in Alteration and Conjurarion as well. She had her own limits though, she didn't learned or wanted to do necromancy; by summoning daggers and her familiar guardian was enough for her. Also, she had taken a liking to read more about Nordic history since the times of the Snow Elves and Ysgramor when she had spare time from her studies. At least the College kept to itself and it wasn't bothered with politics like other places compared to her homeland; yet it wasn't Daggerfall, the locals seemed to distrust her or any of her classmates when they hanged around the inn, sometimes getting in trouble and having Tolfdir or Mirabelle going after them to later lecture them about not bothering the locals and grounding them, just like kids. 

Skyrim also wasn't much like her home either, in traditions or customs, anything. The weather was the almost the same to her, if she didn't minded the freezing winds from the Sea of Ghosts. She couldn't complain, she haven't traveled all of Skyrim yet, but perhaps soon she would travel a bit further than the College campus. The Breton didn't even realized she was already inside the Hall of Countenance as she heard soft growls and grunts. 

"Anne! Can you please ask your fox to stop stealing my soul gems?" Onmund complained as Anneberry entered to her dorm. She raised an eyebrow, not surprised of the amusing battle between the Nord and the fox over a soul gem. 

"Did you closed your door when you had class?" She asked, Onmund frowned. "You know this wouldn't have happened if you get to close your door. Okay, fine!" She sighted. "Sweet Roll, give it to Onmund."

The creature screeched, wagging her tail furiously, nibbling on the large gem between her teeth. But when it looked directly to her mistress eyes, full of authority, she spat the magical object in front of the Nord. Anne smiled and cleaned the soul gem for her classmate. "See? Problem solved and a gem saved."

"Sometimes I swear you're part Bosmer." Onmund whispered to himself, Anne giggled on his comment while she placed her books over her desk, failing to notice her classmate stood over her door. "Did you know Tolfdir convinced the Arch-Mage to do an expedition to Saarthal?"

Anne stopped what she was doing. "Really? An expedition outside the College?"

"An expedition to one of the first human civilizations, no less!" J'zargo yelled from his bedroom, scaring Sweet Roll in the act. 

"And which civilization are we talking about?"

"Atmoran civilization. Where Ysgramor set foot first in Skyrim." Onmund replied. "At last, you can see something about my ancestors Anne! Not that other civilizations are less worth to study, I mean, of course your traditions would be worth of studying..."

"Onmund, I understood what you meant." Anne smiled, until an explotion was heard on J'zargo's room. Anne's smile faded and both mages dashed towards the Kahjiit's quarters. "J'zargo! Are you okay?" She asked. 

J'zargo got out from his room, his fur looking like charcoal, and a whisker being burned by a small flame. "J'zargo thinks his scrolls needs a bit less of a crisp, my friend."

"Yes, they do." Onmund reached to dissipate the flame on his whisker. "We have to go, Professor Tolfdir is going to tell us more about the expedition."

"Then what are we waiting for, let's go!" Anne cheered. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Professor Tolfdir, it is true we are about to go on an expedition to Saarthal?"

"Yes, we are. But-" He was interrupted by a student. 

"And when we go?" 

"Well, that's what I was about to-" Yet, poor Tolfdir was interrupted again by Colette. Mirabelle standed besides him and inwardly, admired his patience to deal with his students. The Hall of Elements was filled with all students and professors alike, but it seemed Tolfdir's pupils were the most curious and kept interrupting him with the exception of Anneberry and some other girls. Mirabelle was glad to have another Breton student besides Colette, at least the new student wasn't hard to interact with. 

"What should we wear?"

"You can wear a-" Mirabelle sighed. Maybe next time she will address the College announcements. 

"But Professor, we are going into a burial crypts. Our ancestors should be left alone and rest in peace."

"Alright, all of you stop!" Mirabelle said loudly, almost sounding like a soldier. "Tolfdir was about to tell you what you need to know, but if you can't behave like well- mannered mages, then I will speak with the Arch-Mage to cancel it."

Everyone kept silent, the only thing that everyone could hear was their own breathing. Mirabelle wasn't a person to play with when she used her authority. "Good. Tolfdir, please go on ahead."

"Thanks, Mirabelle. As I was saying, we part to Saarthal tomorrow morning, since it's not far from the College, we can go on foot. Please wear your scarfs and gloves, Saarthal is a cold place and no surrounding magic protects it from the blizzards. Also, as Onmund said, it's a burial crypt, so we should be careful to not break or damage anything inside Saarthal, everyone understood?"

"Yes, Professor Tolfdir!"

"Good, then we will see each other by tomorrow morning."

And that's how it went. Everyone went to their quarters, all excited about their first expedition. They prepared their packs and went to sleep for the next morning. By morning, almost all the students were at Saarthal, waiting for Anne who falled behind because of the snow. Inside the crypt, Tolfdir gave a small lecture about the history and the battles that happened inside Saarthal, without going into much details, to later send his students to research on left over magic objects on the area. Anne found three enchanted rings, but an amulet called her attention. When she pulled it out, a trap ensnared her. 

Anne yelled, mostly by surprise; Tolfdir dashed towards her. "Help! I'm trapped!"

"What the? How did you get into that trap?" Tolfdir asked, deeply worried for her safety. 

"I don't know. I just pulled this amulet out of the wall." 

Tolfdir hummed."Hmm, now that you mention it, I sense magic waves coming from the wall. Try to use the amulet to see the effects of your spells." He instructed. 

Anne clinged the strange amulet around her neck, and prepared to cast a lighting bolt to the wall. Incredibly, the bolt made the wall explode, discovering a secret passage in the proccess. "Professor, did you see that?" She gasped, incredible of her deed. Tolfdir standed behind her, as the trap released it's grasp. 

"Well now look at you!" He cheered. "Marvelous, incredibly marvelous! The amulet seems to make your spells more powerful."

"But I damaged the architecture..." Anne mumbled. 

"Well, but it seems you discovered a secret passage. Let's go and see what these Atmorans had hidden inside of Saarthal." He encouraged, as he walked inside the dark passage, with Anne following behind. 

Both mages have walked miles, and for some reason, the air felt colder with each step. Tolfdir had fallen behind, and Anneberry had to keep walking by herself, killing the draugr that intended to harm her and a ghost that appeared for a brief moment. If she had done this expedition on the first day she was in Skyrim, she would be frightened, and crying about killing these creatures lives. But now, her comfort was that these Atmorans were already dead, and she was helping them to go back to rest. 

That was her line of thinking until she and Tolfdir discovered an magical orb; magestic and glowing. 

And the fontain of power of Jyrik Gauldurson. 

"Tolfdir! I can't harm him!" Anne screamed as she ran around the sarcophagus, with the putrid monster chasing her. Tolfdir tried to cast a Restoration spell on the monster, but it laughted at him. 

"Joor cannot harm me." The monster growled. As it almost reached Anne's scarf. He noticed how the monster could attack without getting too far from the orb, and just to test, launched a lighting bolt towards the orb, making the monster weaker. 

"It's the orb! Keep him busy until he's vulnerable!" He shouted as he proceeded to attack the orb with all his power. As the time passed, the orb stopped to glow, and the monster was weakened. Anne dashed towards the table to grab the staff the monster guarded, and casted spells on him. He fell in battle soon. 

Anne was gasping for air, tired of running around the sarcophagus, she walked towards her Professor, and checked on the orb he was looking at. "This is a incredible discovery." he whispered, his eyes not believing the sight. 

"Are you okay Professor Tolfdir?" She asked.

"Yes, my child, I am. But this... This is something you should report to the Arch-Mage."

Her eyes warily looked at the enviroment. She didn't trusted to leave her professor all alone in an abandoned civilization that would probably still be filled of undead. Still, he was right someone should let the Arch-Mage know about their discovery. She sighed in defeat. "Okay, but what about you?"

"I can stay behind and guard the orb until the rest of the class helps me. I guess we took care of the worst part so I should be fine." Tolfdir responded. 

Anne didn't had anything else to say than to agree and walked towards a door looking for a shortcut directly to the entrance. She found some gems and a chanting wall where without reason she could translate one of the words written. As soon as she arrived to the College, she informed the Arch-Mage about their finding and as a gift, he taught her a small spell to light her path and sent her to her quarters. 

In the morning, she walked to her class; before opening her eyes in disbelief when she saw the margical orb hovering in the center of the classroom with Tolfdir and the Arch-Mage. It was beyond her imagination of how Tolfdir and her classmates dragged that giant ball to the College. 

"Arch-Mage, this is something valuable of studying! But unfortunately we don't know what is that orb for."

"I guess Anneberry should speak to the loremaster and find any resources to get this started." The Arch-Mage said as soon as he saw Anne walking towards them, earning a curious look from her part. He smiled. 

It was easy, the loremaster was just upstairs and he took his job seriously. Anne trusted that Urag would have just what she needed and hopefully, borrow it for a few days. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"I'm sorry Anneberry, but I don't have the books you need." Urag sighed. He somewhat trusted on the new student, as she had borrowed history books a few times and was responsible with them; all his books she had taken were always returned clean. 

"What? You don't have anything that can help?" She insisted. "They are not for me this time, the Arch-Mage is interested in the giant orb we discovered yesterday." 

"Aye, I heard about that. But I don't have the books you need, at least not anymore. Orthorn stole a number of books when he ran off to Fellglow Keep to join those Summoners. Some kind of peace offering. I think one of those volumes may have had some relevant information. If you want them, you'll have to talk to Orthorn." He raised his hands as he didn't had anything else to say. Anne felt sorry for him, he loved his books as much as she loved her magic. It was known Savos Aren strategy for these kind of problems was to "let themselves resolve" so no one in the College went to rescue the College knowledge, until now. 

"Mister Urag, don't worry. Mark that place on my geographical gem and I will be on my way."

"Be careful down there in your way there, a long traveling awaits you."

She smiled to him as soon as he marked the keep in her magical map, marking it just a few miles east of Whiterun. She took her geographical gem and dashed to her room to pick her pack and cape, with Sweet Roll following her trail. Finally, something exciting was about to happen and she would see more of the beauty of Skyrim in a more pleasant situation.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Anneberry inhaled deeply, and sighed content. "Ahh, breath that fresh air Sweet Roll. Papa would love to spend time in this hold for sure!"

The fox walked behind her, as her fur was puffed up to keep herself warm. Anne giggled at her pet, Sweet Roll would be more comfortable in a warmer place. "Don't you worry Sweet, by night we are going to be at Nightgate inn, eating a treat besides the fire. What do you think?"

The fox barked and wagged her tail as soon her mistress said "treat". Anne smiled, and kept walking as she hugged her fur-lined cape, one of the first gifts her mother sent when she arrived to the College.

'Mother, I hope we can embrace each other soon.' She thought, nostalgia clouding her mind. Maybe... maybe she could wait until Saturalia and spend it with her family and friends back home. But well, she had almost half a year to plan that. Half a year to be back home, eating the food she was used to eat, dance the music she grew up with and spend the time with her family. Of course, the College was her dream and she had friends, she didn't regretted anything despite the first horrendous days when she first came to Skyrim; yet, nostalgia hitted her from time to time and no day passed by that the small mage desired to be back home. She sighed and kept walking until she arrived to the inn by evening as she expected. 

By next morning, the lady and the fox arrived to the castle she was pointed at. At least the castle was in a much warmer place comparing to Winterhold. Anneberry's breath hitched. 

Mages, people guarded the keep. 

She knew Orthorn had joined summoners, but yet, it didn't calmed her that she had to kill them in order to get to Orthorn and the books. 

"Well, the things we have to do for knowledge." Anne whispered to herself and prepared a thunderbolt spell and her ward Tolfdir taught her. This was going to be a long day for Anneberry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for your comments and kudos. Happy Holidays my snowberries :)


	4. An outsider in Whiterun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anneberry looks for more unconventional ways to support her research as she deals with her hate of killing.

There was a deadly silence as the mage dispatched her foe with a thunder strike, a magical creature which was summoned by it's master from his corrupt, dark magic. The creature was convulsing, and it's body lightened as bright as the stars and threatened to explode. Anne and Sweet Roll zoomed through the narrow halls of the Fort, they got to cover just in time for the following explosion . The mage was able to hide behind a wall and covered her head for the incoming heat waves and flames.

_'Next time you destroy an attronach, make sure you are away from them.'_ She thought bitterly and cough, trying to dissipate the smoke. Sweet Roll growled and shook the dust and smoke off her fur. She groaned, swiping off the blood from her cheek and kept walking through the halls until she found the main stairs that guided her to their leader; who presumably had the books she needed.

Anneberry had spent quite a few hours on the Fort, and had killed more people than she could count with her fingers. Burned, freezed or shocked, they all fell victim to her skills. Lucky for her, most of them had basic to no training at all in Destruction or Restoration schools, which made them easier to be eliminated. Although, the last group summoned a Fire Attronach and were as skilled as her, they almost got her. _Almost._

All she intended to do was to negociate with the witch, and get herself out of that fort. She had already killed too many people to just take another life. She hated to kill people, even though she had been practicing the spells of the Destruction school.She tried to give her enemies a quick death whenever she could. She didn't believed in suffering or torturing her enemies; because at the end of the day, they were people, just like her.

_'No, they aren't like me. I would never kidnap farmers or experiment on animals for my own gain.'_ She thought. _'I hope I get over my hate soon. I wouldn't live long enough if I let myself be blinded by my fears.'_

Anne readied herself once more, with a protective ward and entered the Witch's chamber. She had expected everything: from waves of undead trying to ambush her, to a fireball on her face. But certainly wasn't an Ice Rune that paralyzed her legs on a mere instant. She screamed in pain, feeling the minuscule ice needles poking through her bleeding skin.

"I presume you're the one causing trouble in my home." The witch mumbled, a threatening aura evaporating from her.

Anne didn't said anything, whether was the shock or the desperation to free herself. All she could do was to look at the witch straight to her eyes as she tried to hold back her screams of agony.

"It was you who destroyed everything?" Anne refused to talk again, increasing quickly the woman's rage. "I guess this will make you talk."

Anneberry opened her eyes wide as the witch casted a strong telekinetic spell, snapping at Sweet Roll like a serpent squeezing it's prey. The canine howled in pain and wiggled, trying to escape from the choking grasp. "N-noo! Let her go!"

"Then speak, worm!" The witch snapped at her. "Or I'll make your fox throw up it's intestines."

"I-I'm here for the books!" Anne yelled, her voice stammering of panic. "Just give me the books that belongs to the College and I will stay away from you."

"You killed my apprentices and ruined my whole research just for those books?"

"They didn't gave me another option!" The small mage pleaded, not daring to look at her eyes, as she was believing that subtle interaction would be her doom.

The necromancer sighed, her hands trembling with dangerous sparks. She looked like she was about to roast Anne alive and she had nothing to defend herself from any other attacks. She was tired, hungry, and her magicka was almost depleted.

Besides, Orthorn had escaped, leaving no trace of his existence behind; she was sure the man wasn't going to the College to, at least, apologize for all the trouble. Not failing to mention the necromancer had a telekinetic grip on Sweet Roll, making her poor companion squeak in pain.

"Look, I just needed those books in the stalls. You know, there's no price for knowledge! A-anyways, Sweet Roll and I we're going to be out of here sooner than you think." Anneberry stuttered.

The woman raised an eyebrow and looked at the small mage like an insect. After all, it was clear she wasn't capable to fight anymore. Almost by miracle and grace from the gods, Anneberry saw that the witch groaned and liberated the fox from her grip, as well as dissipated the ice trap from her numbling legs; Sweet Roll landed in all fours and dashed towards her mistress, jumping to Anne's chest and embracing arms. "Just get out of my sight before I lose my last strand of patience."

Anne didn't stop to think about it two times and picked all the books the necromancer had on her altar and vanished from her sight. Her sense of will was much stonger than her weakened limbs as the young lady ran from the horrid place.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Anne breathed deeply as she jogged through the gates of Whiterun. She ran a marathon, only stopped once to heal her bleeding legs. She wasn't sure, but definitely Sweet Roll was panting as much as her. Her hair was drenched in sweat and messy, but she was alive as her vixen was too. The guards looked at the small mage with questioning eyes, worried of such state. "Everything okay?"

Anne yelped by surprise, feeling more embarrassed for such demonstrations. "Yes, kind gentlemen. My apologies."

The guards nodded and let her walk inside the kingdom. It has been months since she visited Whiterun. In fact, since she helped Gerdur to send word from Riverwood. She never got the chance to explore all of it, but probably that was going to take her a whole day. Not that Urag gro-Shub was expecting her to come soon, though. Perhaps a bit of rest and walking around would be enough to clear her mind and rest in Whiterun before going back to the College.

In the meanwhile, she could do some reading and research in a different atmosphere before reporting to the Arch-Mage. She sat on a bench and checked her pack if her books weren't damaged and if she had the necessary materials for her small research. Anneberry usually didn't carried everything when she was outside her dorm, just her journal, quill and...

_'By Julianos! I forgot my inkwell!'_ She thought as Sweet Roll saw her mistress pinch her eyebrows. For the vixen, it was rare to see her annoyed and muttering words between teeth, yet disregarded her owner's distress.

Sweet Roll's eyes wandered to the pintoresque people that walked in front of her, children and so many sounds and smells. There were people using furs just like hers, people who used a sack of potatoes as a shirt, people who smelled nice and others that didn't smelled nice to the fox. Children passed by and sometimes smiled or stopped to pet her head. Sweet Roll liked that. There were other animals, which she recognized as hunting dogs. The dogs sniffed and growled at her, and she hissed back at them. It was an overhelming place, very much the opposite of the solitary and quiet Winterhold. A different sound of boots called her attention following by a smell of sweat: a man on armor and his hair loose walked amongst the civilians, looking like a wolf in sheep's clothing. His eyes were focused, and creeped out the small creature, making her jump to her mistress's lap.

"Sweet Roll! You're going to damage the books." Anneberry shooed her pet out from her lap surprised of such behavior. Normally, the fox was too independent and brave to just jump into her lap, unless something frightened the creature. Anne looked at all directions, but nothing seemed to be dangerous. Sweet Roll looked at her, her ears flat and her neck bristles raised. Anne smiled to the fox and raised her in her arms. "You must be stressed, sweetie. That ugly _sorcière_ scared you bad, right?"

"Anneberry? Is that you?" A voice sounded in front of them, breaking their moment. Anne turned her head and saw the man in armor. Sweet Roll looked at him nervious, and Anne found out why the fox seemed uncomfortable. It took her a few seconds to recognize the Companion who helped her to go to bed... drunk.

"M-mister Farkas?" Her cheeks blossomed pink. She completely had forgotten Farkas lived in this kingdom as well. " _Bonjour!_ How did you recognized me?"

"Pretty rare to see a new face here, less a lady with a tamed fox." He raised his shoulders, nonchalantly.

She chuckled. "You're right."

"So, what are you doing here?"

"Just resting. I'm going back to the College of Winterhold tomorrow."

Farkas raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You're with the College?" Anne nodded, making the warrior hum. "I'm surprised, I don't trust mages but you seem different from them."

Anne's smile faded. He didn't trusted mages. Part of her didn't expected the dislike. On the contrary, mages had earned a distrustful reputation, mostly from the Oblivion Crisis. Also for the Nords, the Great War affected their perception of mages and elven-kind. She was a Breton, but had strong elven ancestry as well. "You are not the only one who feels that way."

Farkas noticed her joy decreased notably, he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and tried to correct himself. He wasn't the best at speaking his own mind. "I mean, you seem honorable and strong."

Anne's smile returned, much to his relief. "I appreciate that, Mister Farkas."

By her smile, a brilliant idea came up to his mind. Normally this happened to his brother or the rest of the family. He couldn't let this opportunity slip through his fingers. For him, she looked stronger than the first time he met her- an offer like this was hard to be denied."Then join the Companions!" He grinned.

Anneberry laughed, shaking her head. She? A warrior of legend? She could consider herself lucky to be alive today.

No, her place was with the College, where she could stick her nose on books for long hours and study spells. Even she didn't know how Mister Farkas found her strong, she didn't looked exactly like a warrior, neither her father had trained her with weaponry. She rarely used her dagger, mostly for self defense against predators or opening parchments. "I'm afraid I don't have the looks nor the skills to be a warrior like you."

"I can still teach you." Farkas hoped his offer would make the mage accept. But again, she shook her head, a funny pout charming her features. "Well, Jorrvaskr's doors will be open for you whenever you need me." He turned to take his leave, after bowing at her like the lady he met months ago. She didn't offered her hand this time.

Anne giggled. "Thanks, Mister Farkas."

The day passed slowly, which in part, Anneberry was grateful for. She wandered at all stores and saluted Fralia with a kiss on both cheeks and catched up with her. Fralia noticed her clothes, a bit dirty from the road, and her robes bloodied, but still fancy and expensive. They were blue and violet, adorned with a corset made of rich dark leather combined with her boots. The attire seemed to be sophisticated from Solitude, or from Winterhold. The giveaway the Grey Mane woman noticed was the College of Winterhold pin holding her fur cloak. "You decided to be a mage?" Fralia asked. "Skyrim could use more healers." She mentioned, much to the young lady's surprise.

They conversed more, Fralia seemed to be proud of Anne's advancements, even thought she knew little about her, the girl irridiated an innocent aura and noble character that made her easy to trust and make conversation with. Anneberry was happy to see at least one person was happy to see she was a mage, and even reassured her Skyrim could use more mages, specially with these hard times. Perhaps her Eorlund and the Companions, who always risked their lives and were exposed to hurting themselves, would need her skills as a healer; despite everyone were professional and experienced warriors and blacksmith. "Well, if you need any pins to hold those robes, you know where to find me." She said her goodbyes to Anne, going back to her stall and attend a customer.

As the time passed, and got her fair share of exploring for a day, she rented a room at the inn and this time, she only opted for a snowberry juice and salmon with potatoes. Researches mostly made her stay awake longer, her classmates were witnesses of her insomnia whenever she given her mind away to the books; to the point of seeing her still awake by sunrise. This time, she couldn't permit herself to do that out of the safety of her dorm, so all she could do was to scrap by all the information about that magical Orb.

Two books later, Anne didn't found quite exactly what she needed, but her last chance was the blue bounded leather book adorned with elegant golden calligraphy _"The Night of Tears"_. 

"I hope this should help me. I don't want to fail Arch-Mage." She bit her lips and hoped for the best. As soon as she started to read, she recognized it was related to the ancient Companions and Ysgramor, and realized she still hadn't bought the gods forsaken inkwell.

_"Well, Jorrvaskr's doors will be open for you whenever you need me."_

Perhaps a quick visit to Mister Farkas would help. She could interview him and support better her research. After all, what a better source of information than collective experience?

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Anne walked up the stairs of the ancient mead hall and accommodated her robes and hair, clean from any dust of yesterday after she bathed and washed her clothes at once. It was only an interview, but why did she felt she was going into a wolves den? Sweet Roll sniffed under the doors and looked at her mistress, who seemed to hesitate to knock the door or not.

"I guess I can come back later, it's too early. Besides, I need to buy the inkwell once the shops are open." She mumbled. Sweet Roll looked at her directly, turning her head slightly. "Don't judge me! Fine, I hope they have ink at least." Anneberry rolled her eyes and knocked the door. She waited for a couple of seconds and no one answered. She knocked again, hoping for someone to open the door, preferably Mister Farkas.

Her wishes became true, the door got opened by Farkas. When he realized who was the guest, he couldn't hold up his excitement. "You came!"

"Yes Mister Farkas, but I-" and she felt her arm being pulled by his incredible strength. She yelped and followed his long steps almost running inside the mead hall, leaving her fox at the entrance.

"I want you to meet someone! He's going to decide everything!" He said as both runned downstairs and Anne entered to a basement. She was delighted by the amount of books and rare weapons the hall exposed. She believed in Farkas, probably the person he was going to introduce her was going to help her with the interview.

"That's great! I have so many questions."

"Then today's your lucky day, you're going to meet the Harbinger of the Companions."

Anne smiled, as he rushed her gently towards the last door and he knocked on the door first. After a short affirmative, he opened the door and pushed Anneberry towards a man. He had a closed book on his hands and had the same armor Mister Farkas had. Even though he looked advanced in age, his features made him look like a wise mentor and advisor, reminding her of Professor Tolfdir.

"Kodlak, this is the girl I mentioned yesterday. She's here to join the Companions!" Farkas words came as hard as a bucket of ice.

She didn't know how to feel. She hated to burst his bubble but he got it all wrong. "M-mister Farkas! I'm-"

"I got this." He whispered stubbornly, and she drew her lips thin in discomfort, her heart skipping a beat. "She had some questions for you as well, Kodlak."

"I do as well, what is your name, lass?" Kodlak looked at them in amusement. The lady seemed uncomfortable and disoriented while Farkas was too excited, staring at him with pleading eyes. The old warrior chuckled as he stood up and looked at her while he walked around her and Farkas, analyzing her. She definitely didn't looked like a warrior, but his years of experience had taught him that the best warriors came in all sizes and shapes. He could not judge a book by its cover.

"Anneberry, sire."

"And how do you do in battle?" He asked again, taking a final decision on Farkas' little victim.

"I guess I can defend myself, but there is a lot to learn."

He smiled at her warmly. She was the addition his family needed. "Perfect, Vilkas will get started on that!" He started, earning an uneasy look from Farkas and Anneberry.

"But Harbinger, I don't have any problems to train her. He is already outside training."

"I know you would, but your brother is the Master at Arms. I know you would let her win." He turned and walked to the halls and Farkas and Anneberry followed him with no complains.

Farkas sighed, ashamed the old man expected the same thing he planned to do. He looked at Anneberry and felt more guilty as he saw her face pale as the snow. "I guess you didn't wanted to join..." he whispered at her.

"I was here for an interview." She said sheepishly. "I had some questions about the Companions history."

The Harbinger chuckled. "We can just test you, but you are not forced to join us. If you pass Vilkas' training, our doors will be open for you. Besides, he's a scholar and can help you better with this interview you want."

Anne sighed in relief. "I guess that's okay, sire."

"My name is Kodlak Whitemane, but you can just call me Kodlak, lass."

"Alright, Lord Kodlak." She smiled shyly, earning laughter from Farkas as they opened the grand doors for the lady, showing the extensive yard and many warriors in a circle, yelling and doing bets to a pair of wrestling men in the middle.

Anneberry could see they were pushing each other and dodging or counterattacking. Both warriors were shirtless, in trousers and wore linens around their fists with spots of blood on them. Anne noticed one of the warriors seemed noticeably younger than his opponent, probably Farkas' age, and same traits as him, while the second warrior seemed much older but he still could stand for himself. Anne muffled a scream when the young warrior got punched in this stomach and saw how his face flinched, but not complained one bit. The group of warriors surrounding them encouraged his opponent, and Skjor grinned satisfied of his pack's loyalty to him.

"C'mon Skjor, don't let that brat put you down!" A redhead warrior shouted and the warrior grunted as he blocked his opponent's kick with his arm.

"As if he could!" Skjor growled as he showed a punch toward his opponents' nose, who blocked it successfully.

"What happened old man? Tired already?" His opponent taunted him as he circled Skjor with determined eyes.

"Go Vilkas!" a woman encouraged the opponent. "Show him who's the Master!"

Vilkas couldn't hold back a toothy grin, as he curved his back to gain impulse in a power attack. Skjor was already preparing himself to block again, but Vilkas used his body weight to crouch and cling his leg behind Skjor's knees, and forced him down and leaving him immobilized by grabbing his arm behind his back. "Never take for granted the next attack, my friend."

Anneberry gawked in disbelief at the young warrior, impressed by his skills in unarmed fights. Even she didn't expected that kick coming. He must be the Master at Arms that Lord Kodlak mentioned. With skills like those, a strategy worthy of a predator, and his physical defined he trained for years; the small mage couldn't stand a chance against him.

By the gods, she could consider herself dead by now.

"You learn fast." She heard Skjor talking to Vilkas, as he offered his hand to stand up and saluted Skjor with respect.

"Just from the best." He grinned. His nostrils flared, catching a different scent in the air. The scent was sweet, lavender and snowberries mixed with a hint of sea salts, definitely someone was here apart of his family. His head turned at Kodlak's direction, who was accompanied by his brother and a small girl who seemed to be hiding behind them purposefully, yet looking curiously at him. He tilted his face, not sure of what was happening. The rest of the crew followed his gaze and looked at their leader with the small lady behind him. "Is there a problem, Master?"

"I am no one's master, Vilkas. But I just need you to test this lady's arm. And she has some questions about our history." Kodlak said and pushed gently Anneberry ahead as everyone backed up to their seats.

Vilkas looked at the lady and almost chuckled. She definitely looked scared, and he could smell her magic arounsing from her. He didn't liked two things: Kodlak insulting his skills by bringing this excuse of a training partner, and soft, weak mages.

Kodlak noticed his mocking face and rolled his eyes. Vilkas could be so childish sometimes. "Maybe she will surprise you."

"I hope she does." he grumbled, annoyed. He allowed the mage walk in front of him and handed her a training sword, which was an old and dulled sword that barely sliced through clothes. "Here, I see you don't have a sword yet."

The girl shook her head, and mumbled something he couldn't catch. She took the sword like some kind of weird tool and raised her sword arm in fighting stance. It was heavy for her to hold on one arm for too long and opened her legs slightly to ready herself. He sighed in disbelief, the girl didn't even had clue of basic footing, or how to hold a weapon, neither had the resistance to carry the sword without having her arm trembling.

On the other side Skjor and Aela sat along with Kodlak and Farkas as the rest sat in their benches, interested in their training. "Who's that?" Aela asked.

"Anneberry." Farkas said with worry. Skjor raised an eyebrow curious of his worried face. "I met her at the inn couple of months ago, from Daggerfall. Don't know much about her apart that she is with the College."

"I suspected, she looks too fancy to be a warrior." Aela said and Farkas looked at her confused. "It's the truth." She added, raising her shoulders.

"And you decided to bring her to a group of drunken warriors." Skjor chuckled. They often got visitors who wanted to join the values and honor of the Companions: mostly were warriors or skilled mercenaries, perhaps a youngling wishing to earn their own honor and glory. But having brought a mage to the training yard? He had to see what she was made of. "To be honest, I already feel sorry for her."

"The people we least expect have the bravest hearts." Kodlak intervened, looking at the training pair. "I can feel it."

"I trust you, Harbinger. It wouldn't hurt to have another Shield Sister around." Aela said.

"She's not looking to stay, but for our history. I have to admit, I just threw her into a wolves den." Farkas confessed. The Circle of warriors smiled, definitely this was going to be an interesting morning.

Meanwhile, Vilkas instructed the lady basic footing. "If you want to survive on your own, the most basic thing you need to know is how to move when moving your sword. Open your legs like I do."

Anne stared at him incredulous. "I can't! That's so unlady like." The mage complained. How indecent was this man!

Vilkas rolled his eyes, apart of mage, a milk-drinker. "If I wanted you to open your legs for other reasons, you would already know it."

Anneberry's face turned red like an apple, heat coming off her presence dangerously. He could her her growling softly as she opened her legs slightly like him. The sight of her being flustered and upset was funny, like she was trying to hold back her anger. He intended to anger her, he wanted to test her arm.

"Good, now get ready. The first to fall on the ground loses." He said and she nodded. He looked at Kodlak as he was ready to start the training. "On guard!"

Anne raised her sword and opened her legs just like he taught her, her sword pointing at her opponent. Vilkas slowly walked side to side, anticipating her body language, yet anticipated her running towards him to throw the first hit, Vilkas blocked it with ease. "Seriously? That's all you have?"

"Shut up and fight!" She yelled, making the young warrior grin. He couldn't ignore a lady's wish. So he swinged left, making the small mage block just in time but her sword trembled; she growled, feeling a sharp pain on her wrist. He swinged right and got her on the ribs, making Anne scream in pain.

Farkas saw the act and by instinct he stood up from his chair, but got stopped by Kodlak. "This is their fight, boy. He will not hurt her."

"It is my fault to not have listened to her, Kodlak." He said as he looked at Anneberry struggle against Vilkas' attacks.

"What is done is done."

The young warrior turned around, almost like dancing with the lady, and blocked flawlessly an attack to his back. Anneberry's sword trembled, trying to push the blade into his flesh, but he pushed her back, almost tripping over her feet. She jumped back, feeling her magic running faster in her veins, her hands becoming hotter. She tried another attack, and barely scratched his pectoral as he hoped backwards.

"Thanks, I got itchy on that side." He teased, making the lady roll her eyes. This man was too handsome and annoying for her liking. She had a deja vù as she stared at Vilkas, scanning his movements; she had seen him somewhere, but couldn't place when.

"Look out!" Farkas warned and only managed to call her attention instead to make her react and defend herself against his brother's blow. She got scratched in her cheek this time. The mage hissed, feeling the burn on her cheek as her magicka slowly started to heal it by itself. She had enough, he deserved to get hit at least once and for all.

She ran towards Vilkas in a power attack, blinded by raw rage. Suddenly, she was on the floor, her face and belly facing towards the young warrior. Vilkas pointed his sword to her chest as he looked at her with superiority. "As I suspected, you are no Companion material." He scoffed.

Anneberry's eyes watered, she could not differenciate whether it was from her pride being hurt or anger. She even didn't knew why she cared to win the fight. However, a part of her didn't wanted this battle to finish like this. Her mind only grasped a sudden and harsh twingle from her left hand, and whatever she had in that hand, and blasted it into Vilkas' head.

The man's head turned slightly, and groaned as splinters of wood scattered around the floor. Vilkas' sight blurred for a brief second. He shook his head, trying to recompose of whatever the girl did to him. He looked at the mage in front of him, face flushed and determined bright eyes. Her hand holded a stick, which broke from the blast he recieved and the other half of the stick lied on her boots. Her face changed suddenly, pale, as she looked at the piece of wood she had on her hand, and then at him; like she didn't believed what she had just done.

The Companions stared at them shocked. No one moved or said something, until Kodlak standed up in his chair. He looked at Anne, his face not showing any emotions. Anne feared the worst, she had messed up her attempt of an interview with them, and the Master at Arms wasn't exactly happy after she blowed his head with a broom. "I- I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to hurt him!" Her voice drowned in panic. "If you want me out of here I'll understand. I didn't earned that interview and-"

She looked terrified at the Harbinger who walked towards her, his sky blue eyes staring straight to her brown eyes. Did she disrespected them? It wasn't precisely under her plans to slap Farkas' brother with a broom. "And a true Companion never gives up. And you just had shown us that, girl." He smiled warmly.

She was dumbfounded. "But... I lost."

"Of course you lost, passing the training didn't mean you had to win, but show your true spirit in battle. Vilkas definitely did a good job at that." The old warrior mentioned, looking at Vilkas. His stare reminded of her father when she pranked him at his workshop...

"-you might just made it, so I guess you want an interview with me?" Vilkas said, waking the lady up from her memories and daydreaming, as he offered his hand. She hesitated for a second, awkwardly looking at his face, blushing.

"Y-yes, Lord Kodlak told me you were a scholar. About the Companions history." She whispered, doing her best to make eye contact with Vilkas and not his exercised body. He smiled devilishly, as he just knew _why_ she was so uncomfortable.

Farkas walked towards them, hitting his brother's shoulder playfully. "Leave her alone and put on a shirt! Oh and here, didn't wanted to lose it." He said as he reached over his pocket, a wolf necklace tangled around his fingers.

Vilkas thanked his brother, and put his shirt on as well as his necklace. She recognized the necklace. He was with Farkas that night she stayed at the inn, as well as he was witness of her drunken scene. "Follow me, miss-"

"Anneberry, but you may call me Anne." She says content, waving at Farkas and Kodlak. " _Merci_ , Lord Kodlak and Mister Farkas, you helped me much more than you realize."

"You're welcome, Anneberry. Our doors will be open for you whenever you wish to join us." Kodlak said as he watched the pair go inside the halls.

The lady definitely showed she needed to sharpen her skills, but also demonstrated her heart was one of a true Companion. Kodlak sighed, he felt she was one of her kind. But only it was a matter of time to let the Harbinger and the mage know where her place should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really fun and hard to finish, but I got it. What do you think of the twins and Anneberry?


	5. Helpless Little Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Anneberry cusses for the first time.

_Fiveteen years ago_

_Her tears rolled down her rosy cheeks like waterfalls, her sobs almost unstoppable for the Nord who tried endlessly stop her cries. "Everything is going to be okay, my little snowberry." He tried to reassure his daughter. "We're almost at Elanor's."_

_The girl cried, trying to hold back her pain, and be brave. "Papa, it hurts so much!"_

_"I know, dear." He simply said as he arrived to the grand temple at the epicenter of the kingdom. The temple was big, always made the Nord feel like an ant whenever he entered the place, but it's great size was accompanied by a sense of peace that contrasted the busy life of Daggerfall. Big, coloured windows decorated the holy place, nine to be exact. Each window represented a god of the Empire Divinity: Akatosh, Arkay, Mara, Julianos, Talos, Kynareth, Dibella, Stendarr and Zenithar. He jogged towards one of the healers in the place, an Altmer woman._

_"Elanor!" He called the elf. Her golden eyes darted towards him and the crying little girl in his arms. "We need your help!"_

_"Quickly! Put her on this bed to take a look on her." The healer said. She left whatever she was doing to take care of his daughter in pain. "What happened?"_

_"She was riding our horse but she fell. I think she sprained her ankle." The Nord explained as he grabbed his daughter's hand reassuringly. "Which one hurts, snowberry?"_

_Anneberry sobbed as she pointed towards her right shoe. The elvish woman nodded as she carefully tried to take out her shoe, but made the girl yelp. "Anne, I need to take your shoe off to see your ankle. Would you let me?"_

_"Come on, I know you're braver than papa." He whispered to the girl. She sniffed, and calmed down, hiccuping at times. Anneberry nodded._

_The healer took the shoe out and felt sorry for the girl. Her ankle was thicker than usual, showing an inflammation, and the bone was dislocated. Definitely, the Altmer had work to do. "I can heal her, but she has need to take potions for the pain and rest for a week. I can check on her in a week to see if her ankle has stabilized."_

_The Nord nodded looking at his daughter's brown eyes. "Did you hear, Anne? I told you, everything is going to be alright."_

_"But, Anneberry, I need to put your ankle on it's right place. It will hurt, but it's going to make you feel better." Elanor added._

_Anne's breath hitched. "No! I'm scared!"_

_"I know honey, but you're strong. I will even use my magic like you always ask me, okay?" Anne started to smile, but it wasn't enough for her. Elanor knew the little girl liked to see how her magic swirled and tingled around her fingers, and the feeling of bejng healed. The little girl always asked her if she could learn a healing spell, but she was rather too young to learn on her own. "And once you feel better, if your parents let me, I can give you one of my books and teach you when you're old enough, what do you say?"_

_Anne's eyes glimmered as she accommodated herself better in the bed quickly. Her breath trembled, but looked at her father and the healer as she was determined to get what she was promised. "I'm ready, Elanor!"_

_Elanor chuckled at her and looked at the Nord. "Looks like someone wants to be a healer, right Bjorn?"_

_Bjorn sighed, rather uncomfortable of the fact. "Aye, she keeps pesting me with that."_

_Elanor brushed off his comment and placed her hands on the sprained ankle. "On our count of three, I'm going to fix your ankle. One... two... three!"_

_The elvish healer twisted the ankle back on it's place, Anne let out a scream that echoed all around the temple. She quickly started to cast the healing spell on her ankle to decrease the swelling. Anne gasped, feeling better as the spell worked on her body. "I knew you could do it!" The Altmer reassured the girl._

_Anne stared amazed at the lights and waves of the energy that swirled on her foot. Elanor was her hero whenever she or her parents were injured or sick. She always wanted to be like her: pretty, kind and smart. She had to read a lot of books just to be as smart as her!_

_In fact, Elanor was loved around the kingdom. People said the mages wanted her to be with them but she refused. The other mages liked to go to parties and stay on the castle. You had to know important people so they could let anyone meet them. However, Elanor preferred to stay at the temple and help with her magic. Anne never understood why she didn't wanted to go to the castle, but she was happy that she was at the temple._

_"I finished. Just remember, be careful when riding horses, alright?"_

_Anne grinned. She didn't even realized Elanor had already finished. "I will, thanks Madame Elanor. And may I read a book from your library?"_

_Elanor chuckled. "You couldn't wait, right? Yes, you may."_

_Anne hoped out of the bed and limped slightly towards her library, leaving Bjorn and Elanor alone._

_"She is brave, just like you." Elanor mentioned as she picked up the boot the girl has just forgotten on the bed, lending it to the Nord. "But as distracted as her mother."_

_Bjorn's eyebrows flinched. "You really want to train her? This time you sounded different, more serious."_

_Elanor sighed, she knew what he meant. "Look, I know deep down that you would do anything for Anneberry to see her happy. But Daggerfall is not the best place to learn magic, at least not without interruptions such as politics."_

_"She can get a better life than us..."_

_"But what you forget, is that there is a lot of competition to get admitted in the Mages Guild, they are prioritizing the aristocrats." Elanor rolled her eyes. "And after Marie resigned her high class status, it would be less likely for Anne to join them if they find out who she is."_

_Bjorn closed his eyes as he stood up from the bed. "You know why we did it. It was going to cost her social status, or Anne's life."_

_"And that is why I say Anne is just as brave as you."_

~•~•~•~•~•~•

Anneberry stared at the warrior who snooped in the bookcases, opening and closing some journals and books. He almost changed completely, from an arrogant warrior to a scholar. It was clear that their history was something that interested him completely, just like her. "So, why are you doing this interview?" He asked, sounding uninterested.

"I'm afraid that is confident, if you don't mind."

"Then for who?"

"College of Winterhold." She said almost interrupting him. Vilkas glared at her, like he didn't believed what she just said. "We don't study only the magics. A lot of mages are interested in history, language, alchemy and anatomy as well."

"Mages like you?" She hummed. He scoffed. "Hard to believe."

Anneberry sighed, and tried to get the young warrior on his better side. "Are you still mad at me because of the broom?"

"No." He cut her off, grabbing the last journal he needed, it was his own journal full of annotations and scribblings of all the volumes together as well as he grabbed a quill and an inkwell.

"Then why are you so grumpy?" She asked again. Vilkas groaned exasperated. Hircine's ass, why she was so talkative?

Vilkas sat on his chair and looked at Anneberry who sat in front of him, his eyelid twitching. She was so... calm. Uneasily calm. He looked at the mage in front of him; she was looking at him waiting, oblivious of his growing annoyance.

For him, she was either a naive whelp or a fool. "Look, I'm not going to sugar coat it for you. I am just doing what you were promised. Don't mistake my politeness with kindness. I have better things to do than making friends, understood?"

"Understood." She smiled, completely unbothered by his brashness. Suddenly, she raised her eyebrows quickly. "Oh! And I forgot my inkwell. Do you have one Mister Vilkas?"

He handed over his inkwell, as he prepared himself for the interview. He wanted to get over her already. "Alright. So, what do you want to know about the Companions?"

"Everything." She smiled softly, holding her quill and her journal. "Give me everything, Mister Vilkas."

~•~•~•~•~•~

Anne walked out of Jorrvaskr and closed the door. She inhaled, and exhaled a couple of times before exploding in screams and laughters. "Sweet Roll! I did it!"

Sweet Roll barked at her mistress, waggling her tail. "It was a total success! I have a full thesis to present to the Arch-Mage. Now, I have some scraps and so many theories of this magical Orb, and Ysgramor's duty. Oh! And even the Companions consider me to join their ranks! Isn't that perfect?" She glistened a toothy grin to the fox.

"Though, that Mister Vilkas is a really difficult person to get along with. I am almost sure he was angry because I hit him with a broom." Anneberry rambled as she walked downstairs.

Now, all she had to do for the rest of the day was to eat lunch, pack everything and catch the carriage back to Winterhold. She finished at early afternoon. Everything went in order, excepting there was no carriage to Winterhold. Gods, her luck got soured, but the only options she had was to walk for two whole days back home, or riding.

She smiled to herself. It has been months since she rode her horse in Daggerfall, and missed doing it. If there was something else that she was good at, apart of the arcane arts, was horse riding. She had enough gold saved as well, but hoped she had enough to buy one. Particularly, a black horse like hers in Daggerfall.

And lucky for her, the stablemaster was tending to a black stallion, who buffed and whined in discomfort. "C'mon, I don't know how that hoof is going to heal. Can't sell you with a wounded leg." He mumbled as tried to tend the horses leg with a sloppy work of bandages.

"Poor thing, is he okay?" A voice sounded in front of him. He raised his head and found the young lady with a fox standing besides her.

"Aye, just that a wolf bit his hoof a few days ago and it got infected."

"Have you tried using healing potions?" She asked, failing to notice his sarcasm and getting near him and the horse.

"Look, the potions are too expensive for me to just give it to the horse. Besides, if I treat this horse, it would cost more gold and it's harder to get someone to buy one of my horses." He scoffed. "Unless you're willing to help." He added.

The lady seemed to be a mage. And mages do spells, more importantly, healing spells. Those robes and the cape definitely costed quite some gold. And a lot of gold would do good for him to get rid of the horse. "One grand and the horse is yours."

"One grand?!" The mage gasped. "You can't be serious. Five hundred gold."

"Is not a gift. Eight hundred and it's your problem."

Anneberry scoffed. Horses weren't that expensive back home! Considering Skyrim was on a civil war, goods, food and trading had been scarce lately, making the prices rise, and even more with a dragon menace.

Though, by pure luck, she haven't seen another dragon since Helgen and _hoped_ to not face another one soon. The only reason she walked from Winterhold to the fort was because there was no carriage or stables. She needed that horse now if she wanted to go back home safe and fast. "Seven hundred, and I heal the horse."

"Deal!" The stablemaster agreed, standing up. "I'm going to get your saddle. Just heal him and bond with him. Good luck."

Anneberry walked towards the creature, locking her eyes with it's own. She hovered her hand over it's nose, letting the stallion to smell her. "You are a really brave horse. Standing on your own against that _big bad wolf_." She whispered to the horse. She felt the horse nibbling her fingers in interest. "You like snowberries too? Let me give you some."

She reached her pack for a handkerchief that contained snowberries she collected on Winterhold, she was glad her favorite fruit was abundant like at home. She gave a handful to the stallion and he started to eat them.

Anne glared at it's hoof, still covered in dirty bandages. She took opportunity that the equine was distracted and reached it's hoof to get rid of the bandages. The smell was insufferable. "Gods, you had been suffering..."

She didn't realized the horse already finished his snack, but didn't moved or showed any discomfort to the lady. She was his new master? She smelled nice and was gentle with him. The stallion watched his new mistress as she opened a bottle of water and cleaned his hoof as she started to heal it with some strange golden light. The stallion huffed. "It's okay, my dear! I'm not going to hurt you." She whispered, rubbing his nose gently. "Finished, I hope it doesn't hurt anymore."

The horse standed on his hoof... It didn't hurt anymore. He smelled his leg, something he wasn't permitted to do with his previous master. It didn't smelled like wolf or rotten flesh. His new mistress giggled. "Quite a miracle I was there for you."

"So, you bonded with him already, I take it."

Anne looked at the stablemaster. "He's really sweet. Here's the gold."

The stablemaster grinned at the pouch of gold, tingly, shiny gold. "Good, let me strap the saddle and strap him up, a pleasure doing business with you."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The sound of hooves clapping on the rocky road, the feeling of her hair flowing in the wind and her breath matching with Hunter's was one of the best feelings she could experience. Riding was one thing she loved to do since she was a little child, her father taught her how to trust and bond with the horses as her equal. Nothing gave her more sense of freedom than this.

Of course, there was a fox inside her pack that felt the total opposite, as she heard Sweet Roll gag a couple of times already.

"I hope you don't throw up on the books, Sweet Roll." She yelled, her voice almost muffled by the howling wind. They were entering to Eastmarch Hold.

The territory was quite large, almost taking Anneberry to travel two days from Winterhold to Whiterun and another day to pass through the Skyrim border on foot or carriage. With Hunter, her new stallion, only took her half of the time to travel, if she considered the weather.

And the booming roar that echoed behind her.

She felt her skin crawl and her head tingle funny, her senses becoming more acute. She kept riding, not daring to stop.

 _'Please, I hope is not what I think it is...'_ She thought. She glazed over the gray atmosphere, and there was nothing out of order apart of the trees that zoomed from the fastness of her riding. She looked behind her, but there was no creature chasing her either.

"I must be crazy. There's nothing dan- _merde_!" She cussed, yelling as claw attempted to grab her.

A shadow flied just above her, dangerously close for her liking. The creature tried to claw her out of her saddle, failing for mere centimeters as the mage made her horse stop suddenly and lowered her head.

Anne raised her head just to witness a dragon was just trying to hunt her down. The creature flew just ahead, and stopped as well, staring at his prey.

 _"I'd filok, dii kip!"_ (Don't escape, my food!) The dragon shouted. Anne didn't understood a word he said. The dragon spat a giant fireball towards her and Hunter.

She clicked her tongue, darting out of the roads into the dense snow. Hunter wasn't as fast as her previous horse, but was much stronger and had a remarkable resistance when he had to run. Without slowing down, Anneberry and Hunter made it, entering to a vast, snowy wilderness, hoping the creature wouldn't be able to grab her from the skies.

She hoped that riding through the forest would stop the dragon to ambush her again, but the dragon didn't gave up. She saw his shadow hovering above her, on top of the pines waiting for a chance to claw the life out of the lady. The dragon shouted, three powerful words, and another giant fireball burned the trees behind her, cracking from the force and flames expanding.

"No!" Anne screamed, almost starting to cry out of panic. She desired to escape, she didn't wanted to end up as a dragon snack. "Hyah!" She shook the reins strongly, another attempt of her stallion gallop into full speed, dodging the trees as they appeared in front of them as blurry shadows.

The mystical creature flew past them, spitting a large stream of fire in front of them,burning all the trees in front of her and making a wall of flames. She considered for a moment use her magic to create a magical barrier, but the infernal wall was too dense and grand for them to pass through it without getting burnt. In a matter of seconds, she was surrounded in flames and smoke. The dragon managed to make a circle of flames, blocking the mage to any possible escape.

Anne shivered, her knuckles turning white as she grasped stronger the leather reins. So this was it; she had to fight the dragon or die trying it. In any ways, she preferred dying trying rather than giving up. Hunter neigh, standing on his two hoofs, and throwed her mistress and Sweet Roll to the snow, running away from the imminent danger across the circle. The horse and the fox ran to a nearby rock that thankfully was inside the infernal circle and they got themselves to cover.

The dragon landed across her. She heard him saying something more before opening his mouth. Anne ran behind another tree and covered her head. The tree got burnt, cracking and threatening to fall over her and crush her with it's lethal weight. Anne had to slide aside as the dragon attempted another attack with his tail, breaking more trees in half.

The mage grew impatient. She couldn't just evade his attacks forever! The dragon seemed to grin sadistically, enjoying the havoc he was causing to the small lady. "You can't hide from me forever." He growled and prepared his shout of flames. The mage closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply.

 _'Wards are the basic spells for any mage should learn and practice. This wards are able to protect you from any incoming attacks, proyectiles, and even the climate.'_ She remembered her last lecture with Professor Tolfdir. She hoped these attacks also included powerful dragon shouts. There was only one way to find out.

She opened her hands, trying her best to keep her mind at ease. It would take seconds of difference for that ward to be casted correctly, just appearing on the last second as the stream of fire hitted her ward strong, making the mage stumble. She growled. It took her a lot of effort to keep the ward stabilized.

Anne opened her eyes, her victory shortly celebrated as she casted a fireball and throwed it straight to the dragon's face. "You're dealing with someone of your own temperature!" She yelled. The dragon growled, increasingly annoyed.

 _'Why the heck I am doing bad puns while fighting?'_ She thought as she prepared a thunder strike while her legs moved on their own accord towards the creature. _'And why I am fighting?! I'm crazy!'_ She panicked.

For her luck, the dragon was about to snap his teeth at her, yet failed as her body slided under his jaw, the thunder strike hitting his jaw strong. _"Nid!"_ The dragon yelled.

"You're going to pay for it, _joor_." He growled. His wings started to flip, rising to the skies, taunting his foe with another giant fireball towards the mage. The fireball went so fast, that it hitted the mage with grand force.

From the explosion, her body was threw away towards a stump, her back connecting with the wood hard. Her vision became blurred and her ears rang as she moaned.

Her magic flowed faster, she didn't knew why. Perhaps after her time practicing at the College and the adrenaline made her more powerful than she expected. But also her body was limp, like a dead weight that was too hard to be lifted.

There was no time to ask for help, nobody would find her in time to help her fight this creature. She was alone in the forest, and the nearest city or kingdom was miles away from where she was. She tried to stand up, but the pain was too much, she only managed to crawl behind the stump, leaving a trail of blood behind her. She started to heal her ribs with all the remaining magicka she had to buy herself some time. She wished to be as good as Elanor or Colette, who could heal and mend bones ina matter of seconds.

The earth trembled, and she heard an evil chuckle behind the stump. She shut her eyes close, she wasn't prepared to die. What about papa? And mama? Who was going to take care of Sweet Roll or report her findings with the Arch-Mage?

Her faith was broken, lost, as little Anneberry started to weep.

~•~•~•~•~•

A distant roar echoed on the skies, his ears perked in an attempt of locating the source. He sniffed the air, there was a hint of smoke and burnt wood. His steel eyes turned yellow, as he heard the calling of the hunt coming from the forest fire. He tried to ignore it. Yet again, his wolf clawed behind his head, trying to let out his great glory if he didn't run towards the source of such roar. He groaned.

His instincts made him run, his boots moving on its own accord with an unnatural speed, leaving his hunt behind. There was a greater prey lurking from the forestal fire, and he was going to be the one to hunt him down.

Her sobs were almost unaudible for his sharp senses as the brave warrior ran past the burning trees with luck. But it was rather clear that there was a damsel in distress in hiding, and a hungry dragon was taunting her to make her his meal. His scream of battle was heard, calling the attention of the mystical creature as his long sword connected with his head, almost tearing the dragon's eye out.

The dragon howled, turning his full attention towards his new guest as he sled aside because of the snow on the ground. The mysterious warrior growled, his eyes glowing golden under his hood, locking his predatory gaze with the dragon's. The dragon shouted, another fireball throwed towards the warrior, and successfully managed to dodge itwith reflexes blessed by Hircine himself. He chuckled, his hands holding tighter his long sword. His mocking was short lived as he heard the trees cracking, just behind him.

The warrior turned, and gasped as he saw the gigantic pine just a few meters about to smash him like a hammer to a nail. Suddenly, from the corner of his eyes, two golden waves stroke the falling pine, destroying it to splinters. The dragon and the mysterious warrior looked aside, as they saw the lady sorcerer trembling on her feet, her waist bleeding heavily, blood leaking from her fancy robes. Her hands were surrounded with her golden magic as she closed a hand to cover her waist to stop the bleeding. Her long hair was in complete disarray, but stood as beautiful as ever.

"Look out!" She yelled to the warrior as the dragon attempted to snap his sharp fangs to his new foe.

The mysterious warrior jumped back, and with all his force, slayed his snout in a perfect swing. The dragon screamed as it stepped on his two claws, making itself look as tall as a leafy oak. With raw power, the creature flew in circles in an unmatched speed, as the wave of imminent force caused by his great wings pushed everything away. It pushed the snow, trees and the mage, as the warrior witnessed she was thrown away and crashed with a stone. She fell unconscious from such hit.

The warrior yelled, his roar almost animalistic, his beast taking control over his body as he jumped from a stump in front of him and cut the dragon's eye out! The dragon roared, arising to the skies and managed to escape from the warrior's wrath.

The warrior growled, his prey escaped, but he was trapped with a lady in a forestal fire. He attempted to sniff the air again, but with the overwhelming amount of smoke, it was hard to differentiate where was the exit. He sheathed his long sword behind his back, as he ran towards the lady.

She looked weak, delicate, and pitiful as a little bird. If his wolf wasn't interested in the dragon, she would make such easy prey for him. Her waist was bloodied, as her expressive face was in a deep slumber covered in smoke and dirt. A buff sounded behind the rock she laid, and a black stallion along with a red fox appeared in his sight. The fox growled and hissed, warning the warrior if he attempted something funny with her mistress. He took the lady carefully in his arms like a princess, and looked around to escape as soon as he could.

"I think I know where are you headed." The warrior whispered, recognizing the silver pin that holded her black cape as he mounted the unconscious mage on her horse's back. He grabbed the fox, and mounted it on the pack attached to the horse. He jumped to the stallion's saddle, and with a click of his tongue, he started to ride it at full gallop.

His escape wasn't completed, the forestal fire had expanded and he couldn't get out of the place the same way he entered. He sniffed the air again, making the horse run towards a group of trees that were barely starting to burn on fire. The trees started to crack as they passed amongst the trees in full speed.

"Hyah!" He yelled, lashing the reins harder, successfully jumping a fallen tree in front of them, where he encountered the main road. They had escaped the forestal fire and rode towards the Northern Seas. His rescue didn't look like she could resist, and her only hope was a lot miles away. He hoped they could arrive on time to the College of Winterhold.

 _'I hope you don't get in any more troubles, Anneberry.'_ The mysterious warrior thought as he holded the mage tightly in his arms.

~•~•~•~•~•

Anneberry mumbled, stirring in discomfort. She opened her eyes, expecting to be in the forest. But she was in her dorm. It was a dream? When did she arrived home? She tried to get up, but a pair of hands stopped her as she felt a sharp pain in her ribs.

Someone sushed her, a feminine voice calming her down. "Slow down, Anne. You're safe."

"What? Where?" She croaked. "How did I get here?"

"You're in the College. Someone brought you over the night and you were unconscious and bleeding. We took care of you after he left."

Mirabelle watched her student trying to accommodate herself in her bed, staring the place disoriented. "Since when I am here?"

The Master Wizard thought for a moment."Well, it has been about a week."

"A week?!" Anne's eyes widened. Mirabelle nodded.

So it was real. The memories came back hard, overwhelming. However, she barely remembered her mysterious savior. "How did he _looked_ like?"

Mirabelle smiled warmly at her, caressing her hair. "He was a Nord. I couldn't see his face because he wore a hood, but wore the Companions armor. Oh, and also left a letter. He said it was only for you."

Anne's cheeks turned pink, making her teacher to giggle softly. "Madame Ervine, was the Companion wearing a wolf necklace?"

"I guess. I couldn't see him very well because it was at night when he brought you over. I take it you met your knight in shining armor before?"

Anneberry didn't said anything, but her reaction was clear for the older Breton. The Companion had made an impression on her pupil, as her cheeks were as red as the snowberries. "A-and, the books?"

"Anneberry, you did a great job with your research. The Arch-Mage was utmost pleased with your findings and the interview. He allowed you to rest as your other classmates follow up with the investigation." She said, standing up from her bed, lending her a sealed letter. "This is from him, rest well."

The Master Wizard walked outside her dorm and closed the door, leaving the lady alone with a letter she was too nervous to read. She was almost sure who was her savior, yet seemed impossible to believe. He was miles away from where the attack happened. She opened the letter, a caligraphy as impeccable as hers adorned the paper.

_Probably once you wake up, I'm going to be far away from you. In any cases, I just wanted to let you know the dragon we fought had escaped, but I managed to tear his eye out. I hope with that, he will think about it twice before he looks for another victim._

_Your books and all your materials are safe, and I added a few more details of our history because you clearly made some mistakes in your previous report. Good luck with your thesis._

_Ps: Remember, little bird, what I taught you of basic footing. Opening your legs might save your life._

_\- V_

Anne huffed, and by inertia, threw away the letter as she started to feel her body and her core warming up rather improperly for her. "Blasted wolf and his dirty tongue!” She yelled, but regretted it as another sharp pain stabbed her ribs.

The little mage groaned. It wasn't like her her patience ran thin with his sly comments. But his comments were the reason that her mind turned upside down, her self-control and natural calmness threatened to vanish at rapid scale?! He was nothing but trouble, his charming looks, intelligence and strength tested her very being. He seemed the type that had an answer for everything whether she asked for it or not. What angered her the most, was that she has nothing but a helpless lady whose feelings for the Companion would now be her doom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh! Anneberry cussing is so cute and definitely will have a hard time after falling for someone that's not for her! I don't blame her, I do the same thing in real life :3 
> 
> Why do you think Bjorn, who’s Anne’s father, said Marie had to resign her social status in order to save their daughter’s life?
> 
> Also, I appreciate from the bottom of my heart all your comments and Kudos. You guys are great!


	6. Wolves in Bleak Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Vilkas and Farkas enjoy their lives as famed warriors.

The sound of his boots echoed on the great palace, in rapid steps, almost like a soldier's walking. His steel eyes were focused, and his necklace clinged at a times against his armor. The palace maids parted aside from the Companion, clearing his steps. His determination unbroken, as he directed himself towards the Jarl of Whiterun.

Vilkas kneeled in front of Jarl Balgruuf, his armored hand on his chest, bowing at the leader with great respect. "Your highness, I request an audience from you, regarding the dragon menace."

The Jarl recognized the Companion, and gestured his housecarl to let him continue. It was rare to see the Master at Arms around the castle unless the situation warranted it. The young warrior always came for business only, but this time, it seemed it was another matter. "Vilkas, you have my ears."

"I tracked a dragon at our northeastern border, it caused a great fire, yet no casualties involved."

Balgruuf contained his breath. He was glad at this time, only his housecarl and him stood at the throne. All thanes, nobles and his steward had departed to their homes. If the whole court had listened to this news, they would be whispering so much that would barely let him think. "I hope you slain it." He vocalized, warily.

Vilkas shook his head, standing up again and looked straight to his eyes. "The dragon had escaped before I could stab my sword to his heart, but he was heavily wounded."

 _'So, we can fight them.'_ The king thought. There were legends of dragons, and _dragons in mortal form_ , heroes of old, who fought them in the Northern lands, and also leaded the Empire until the Oblivion Crisis. Dragons were not ordinary creatures, and less they were easy to fight and kill. The warrior before him, had proven that courage is enough to keep those demons at bay.

"Good job son. Now, at least we know our warriors can fight these devils in case of another attack. But Vilkas, I have a contract for you and the Companions."

"How can we serve you, Jarl Balgruuf?"

"You and a Helgen survivor had faced a dragon and survived to prove they are real, but only you were brave enough to fight it. So, I need someone like you to help my Court Wizard, Farengar, in his research about these dragons. We need to find out from where are they appearing and how we can fight them. " The leader dictated, a hint of crave in his voice. The Master at Arms wasn't the second person he asked for such contract, but every mercenary he came across had refused the offer, or _never returned_ to claim their payment.

Thankfully, Vilkas nodded, accepting the contract. "Send a parchment with all the details to the Harbinger and we will fulfill your contract as always."

"Good, the city and I will be on your debt, Companion. Failing is not an option." The great leader commanded, his voice leaving no room to answers.

He nodded, without saying anymore, left the palace the same way he entered. The maids saluted the young warrior, some with shy smiles, while the elders scowled at him as he left footprints on the freshly polished floor.

It has been about two weeks since the attack, and he was worried for just one thing. Where did the dragon go? He was too focused in saving Kodlak's guest that he forgot to track down the dragon.

Why the dragon attacked the mage? Why of all times, a dragon had to appear out of nowhere? It has been like that for months? Where were the reports? Who was the Helgen survivor? He had so many questions and so little answers.

When the young warrior entered to his home, his family was already feasting and telling stories to each other. "Ah Vilkas! Please tell us about your last fight!" One whelp yelled, the newest recruit, Ria.

"Yes Vilkas, delight us with your stories." Njada sneered.

Vilkas' lips twisted, his eyes closing a bit, giving the whelps haughty eyes. "I fought a dragon." He spat, arrogantly.

Their reaction was priceless. Farkas almost chocked on his food, Aela's eyes opened like plates and Skjor spat his mead. Kodlak on the other hand, wasn't surprised of such adventure. Vilkas hoped he didn't noticed anything out of place, or otherwise, his heightened senses would be still as sharp as his. "I believe someone helped you as well, my boy."

 _'Old man is still the same wolf.'_ Vilkas thought. He had hoped no one could notice her smell after a few baths, but apparently, he guessed two things; _her smell_ still lingered on him, or Kodlak still remembered it after it was washed off.

Vilkas sat on his usual spot, and started to eat his food in content. "Well, basically I did all the job. But your _friend_ blasted a tree that was going to squash me." He added, pointing with his fork to Farkas when he said "friend".

Farkas raised his head, catching the indirect. "Anneberry saved you?"

Vilkas stopped to eat and shook his head. "I saved her, she was unconscious after she got hit."

His brother's smile was ear to ear, as he started to laugh excited. "She saved you. A mage. I knew Anneberry had it in her!" Farkas yelled, ignoring his brother's attempt to take credit for all himself, making some of the whelps chuckle.

Kodlak smiled to Farkas and Vilkas rolled his eyes to his brother. "You surprised us, boy. But tell us, Vilkas. What happened to her after the attack?"

"I brought her over to the College of Winterhold and another Breton took care of her after I left. I thought she would be safer at her own place than with us."

Kodlak nodded, satisfied of his actions. "Good, that one is _one of her kind_."

The young warrior ignored his words and continued to eat. Lately, the matter of the Bretonic sorcerer caused great interest within his family, especially with Kodlak and Farkas. He didn't understood why such interest on someone who was never going to step foot again at their home, considering the circumstances. For him, the little bird had flown away, far from their reach. He smirked at the thought.

The girl was a walking joke. She was a small, weak and a helpless little bird who as much as she could try to, she was never going to be like him, or anyone in the hall. She couldn't fight without magic, she couldn't stand for herself and neither tried to defend her dignity after he insulted her. She could barely reach to his boot sole in terms of greatness. There was no place for her within these halls.

"Why the face?" Farkas asked, biting a chicken leg and ripping it with his fangs. The whelps had retired to their chambers, leaving only the Circle feasting on the remaining meat; eating freely like the beasts they were, Vilkas thought.

Vilkas drank his mead, hiding the smirk behind the metallic mug. To Oblivion if he knew who he referred as the little bird. "Nothing, I remembered we have a interesting contract." He said, raising his voice on purpose, earning Kodlak's interest.

"Care to explain what contract is about?" The Harbinger asked.

"Balgruuf said he will send the parchment in a few days. He only said we were going to help Farengar with the dragon menace, from where they are appearing and that stuff." Vilkas commented. "Of course, I didn't let this opportunity slip away like the Helgen victim he mentioned, a milk drinker that is to run away from the glory of battle."

The Harbinger nodded. "I'm sure you want to go there once I get the details." Vilkas grinned. "Aye, you will go. But one condition."

Vilkas' smile faded. Dibella's tits! What the old man wanted him to do now? "Anything, Harbinger." Vilkas grumbled, earning a grin from Kodlak.

"Go with a Shield Sibling this time, you can choose who can accompany you in this adventure, son. May the spirit of Ysgramor protect you in this journey."

Vilkas smiled, softly. He couldn't ignore his Harbinger, no matter how much he wanted to go alone; at least he had freedom to choose his Shield Sibling. It has been a long time since he and Farkas shared a contract.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

"Are we there yet?" Farkas asked, for the hundreth time in the day.

"No." His brother grumbled, pushing ahead against the howling wind. Snowflakes hitted his face and froze his shaven beard, as his hood flowed over his head, entangled around his neck like his wolf necklace. His brother didn't complained, or said anything, he only growled as he forced his boots against the wind, much to Vilkas relief.

It didn't passed a couple of minutes when his brother asked again the same damned question. "And now? Are we there yet?"

Vilkas groaned. Now he remembered why they didn't usually went together during contracts. The brothers were different, yet somehow learned how to work in harmony; Vilkas being the brain and strategist, while Farkas was the brute force and usually did all the stunts whenever danger lurked nearby. But by Ysmir, Farkas could be as annoying and pesting as a flea!

Farkas was not an icebrain, much to everyone's surprise when people pointed at his brother's lack of intelligence. To Vilkas, Farkas was smart, in his own way. He usually focused his intelligence subjectively, an example was when he showed his empathy with the clients, comforting them during their crisis whenever they asked for the Companions help. He always showed fortitude, and positivism, a trait that Vilkas lowkey admired. Kodlak always said Farkas was too kindhearted, while Vilkas was more of an objective warrior. He never let his feelings or thoughts obstruct his work, as it normally happened. He even wasn't the most positive person, usually his opinions were influenced by the reality, as harsh as it could be. At times, his rage and his own beast was what made him slip away from his own code.

He loved Farkas, but there were times he tested his thin patience, like now with his incessant questions. "Almost there, brother!" He yelled, his voice being muffled by the winds.

Farkas groaned. His boots slipped on the icy ground. He couldn't wait to get back home and drink warm mead. What was all the hassle for? They had recieved the official contract just yesterday, and Vilkas seemed too excited for Ysmir-knows-why. Even Kodlak said their target could or could not be, actually there.

"Look, there it is!" Vilkas yelled, holding his furred cloak tightly. An ancient and colossal tomb carved from the mountain rested in front of the warriors, covered in snow.

Farkas looked upon the great architecture, somehow impressed. He had seen Bleak Falls Barrow from distance, but seeing it in front of him? It was even more bigger than he expected! The place seemed it was carved from the same mountain, as it had a majestic metallic door, showing a symbol of a strange creature. He noticed the bandits quickly, who set camp on the balcony 

"And looks we're going to have fun." He heard brother add as he wrinkled his nose, sniffing the air. Farkas was more than ready to sing stories with his brother about this day.

The brothers were famous amongst the Companions themselves. While they lacked age, they had trained since they could even remember; making them capable warriors at young age. The Circle of warriors was formed of the most trustworthy Companions, and usually, senior warriors. Vilkas and Farkas had began their training since they were younglings, and had gone to contracts during their teenhood, making them exceptional warriors within their own rank. They had earned their place, a reputation as unbreakable as their soul.

Places like this, Bleak Falls Barrow, counted as their most story-telling missions that were kept for the elite, since these places crawled with bandits, draugr, and spiders. Farkas flinched at the sight of the repugnant insect that his brother killed. They were Companions, but they were humans after all. And all humans had a weakness, or that is what Farkas believed.

"It's dead brother, there's nothing else around here." Vilkas said as he poked the spider with the tip of his sword. "See? Dead."

"You know how much I hate those things." Farkas grumbled, staying away of the corpse while the pair walked to a entrapped bandit.

"You! Oh great, you killed it! Now cut me down before something crawls out!" The Dummer growled, forcing his limbs without success.

Vilkas sheathed his sword, lending a hand to the Dunmer. "Where is it?"

The Dunmer raised an eyebrow, staring at them annoyed. "Where is what?"

Farkas spoke to the bandit, calmly, contrasting his brother's demanding voice. "The dragon claw, give it to us."

The Dunmer scoffed, almost laughting. "Do you think I'm able to give it to you now, horker brain? Cut me down and I'll give it."

Vilkas growled, his gloved hand reaching his ashen throat. The Dunmer gulped, feeling his fingers pinching his pulsing life. "Insult my brother again or try anything funny and I'll cut your tongue."

His silver eyes glowed in the dark room, leaving no room to say anything else. He only managed to nod, while the sadistic twin reached over his belt and unsheathed his dagger and started to cut out the spider webs. They loosened, he could feel it. Once the twin finished, cutting the last tie around his wrists, the Dunmer landed on the floor, and his boots turned on it's own accord.

"Fools! You're never going to take it from me!" He said as he swiftly dashed down the chambers, his body stopped suddenly, falling flat and found himself coughing blood.

Farkas stared thunderstruck at the dagger Vilkas just threw in a perfect hit, reaching his lungs and stopping the bandit from his escape. "Show off."

Vilkas shrugged, chuckling softly. "Did I warned him?"

"You said you were going to cut his tongue, not throw a dagger from the other side of the room." Farkas mentioned as he walked towards the dying bandit and finished his life at once with his own blade.

"Nevertheless, he wouldn't end well." He mumbled as he reached inside the bandit's pockets."And here we go." His brother said, raising the golden ornament to his brother. "We have the dragon claw, now let's find that door, get the Dragonstone and get this over with."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Vilkas hid behind the coffin, as he heard his brother's grunts, taking some hits from the Draugr Lord he fought against. He expected draugr to be lurking around the chambers, but one this powerful and smart was very unusual, like it was guarding the Dragonstone it holded. Draugr were normally clumsy and weak creatures, couldn't stand a chance against a warrior of his mettle, but it seemed it already had Farkas up to the test.

 _"Fus... Ro Dah!"_ The Draugr shouted, his shout so powerful, that made Vilkas to cover his ears. His ears rang, and he barely heard Farkas huffing as he collided with the giant wall with strange scratches and carves on it.

"Vilkas!" His brother screamed, looking for his help. "He's getting me!"

Vilkas eyes darted around the room. Dirt, plates, embalming tools, a stick, linens.

_Fire._

The older brother ran towards the stick, and grabbed the linens scattered around the coffin. There was no troll fat or whale grease to make a fine torch, but the remains of a ceremonial torch had a faint flame, enough to light the improvised torch he just crafted. Vilkas roared, getting the monster's attention, and stabbed the torch on it's rotten chest, getting itself on fire.

The Draugr roared, crying out anomalies in an unfamiliar language the warrior had never heard. Its growls and whimpers choked on the remains of the bile, releasing the foulest of the scents Vilkas could ever smell. Finally, the monster fell on the ground, released from its grasp the Dragonstone he guarded with its afterlife.

Vilkas panted, staring at his brother who rested against the strange wall. His features seemed tired, bloodied, and had bile all over his armor. His usual black ponytail was messy, as thinner locks stocked to his face slick in sweat and warpaint. Vilkas lent a hand to his twin, helping him to stand up. "Are you okay, Farkas?"

"Got me good this time. Haven't got a good fight like that for months!" Farkas beamed, Vilkas smiled and hugged his brother.

"Eager are we? C'mon, let's go home."

Farkas nodded and picked the Dragonstone, giving it to his brother. Vilkas wrapped the Dragonstone carefully, noticing the same strange scratches and carvings on the back of the tablet.

The young warrior hummed. "You think this is some kind of map or something?"

"Why you say that?"

Vilkas showed the tablet to his brother. Farkas' eyebrows flinched, trying to understand what his brother meant. "The scratches, they look like the ones in the wall. Do you think they mean anything?"

Farkas raised an eyebrow. "Brother, that's Farengar's work, not ours."

Vilkas nodded. His brother was right. They were there only to get the stone to the Court Wizard. As much as Vilkas could be so fancied about, he had no knowledge of what were this carvings, or their significance. Neither had the resources to research about it. Now that he thought of it, he didn't knew anything about the dragons, just legends and stories, like any Nordic child.

The brothers walked out of the cave, sliding between rocks and gravel, as they made their way to Riverwood to spend the night in, and return the dragon claw to its rightful owner.

Lucan Varelius was an absolute exorbitant Imperial to his liking, but his sister was an eye candy, as she gleamed at them warmly and entangled her thin arms around her shapely waist, making her buxom contrast in the golden lights of the fireplace. "You had done me a great service Companions! This time was indeed a thief and not the fox like last time."

"How could a fox steal the claw?" Farkas chuckled as he recieved their payment gratefully.

"Oh, I don't know. But the Breton girl knows how to control that little pest."

Farkas raised an eyebrow. "Well, better keep it under lock, right brother?" Farkas turned, and he saw his brother making eye contact with Lucan's sister, Camilla. He cleared his throat, earning his attention discreetly. "Right, Vilkas?"

Vilkas turned to his brother, a smirk plasted on his face. "Aye, aye."

Farkas sighed. It was time for them to get going. He stroked Vilkas' shoulder, a small gesture to keep going. "Well, we're retiring for the night."

"Thank you again, _my hero_." Camilla said, her voice smoothed on the last words, tenderly caressing Vilkas who could hardly ignore the sweetness of her speech.

"You're very welcome, my lady." He said, his eye winked at her and smirked, flickering his hand as he got outside of their shop.

Farkas snickered, not believing his brother's smooth talk. He knew his brother had a tendency to call the attention of women, but still, it was very amusing to witness. "Get a hold of yourself _wolf_ , we're still on a business."

"Ain't my fault women find this wolf irresistible." Vilkas jerked his shoulders, grinning to himself. Ah, the perks of being a famed warrior!

"Let's go, that woman surely has two other men courting her, doesn't need a third man."

"And how do you know that?" Vilkas' eyes widened, he didn't even notice any other men courting the young lady.

"I smelled them coming, right in front of the shop."

Ah, that explains. Vilkas shrugged, yawning uninterested. "Alright alright, you talked me into it. Women after we finish our job."

Farkas smiled, hugging his older brother by his shoulder. Indeed, he missed doing a contract together as brothers, whereas they were so different, it made their travel memorable. The pair of twins arrived at the inn and rented two rooms for the night, and had dinner together. By the next morning,they went back home, presenting the Dragonstone to the Court Wizard, and earning joyed congratulations from Jarl Balgruuf.

So that was their job, traveling to different places, fighting battles of all kinds, sometimes finding treasures, and live enough to earn the honor and glory to telltale the battles. This kind of life would be lush full to any warrior: stories to tell, a family to trust, mead overflowing like water, and women to chose. At this very moment, Vilkas anticipated a sack of gold, women hoarding over him, or maybe a weapon from the Jarl's arsenal.

But certainly wasn't Irileth screaming at their direction, rush and precedence flowing in her scarlet gaze; a dragon attacked the Western Watchtower, and it was expected that the Wolves of Jorrvaskr would have to aid the kingdom of Whiterun once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A different chapter for a different month! I enjoyed writing Vilkas, as much as hard-headed as he is, he's still one of my favorite characters in game! What do you think of him now? Love? Hate?


End file.
